


Harry Potter and the Garden of Avalon

by Aldsan



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-01-23 05:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18543457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aldsan/pseuds/Aldsan
Summary: It is said that King Arthur did not truly perish at the Battle of Camlann, but instead simply sleeps in Avalon, waiting for when Britain is in it's time of direst need. When a young Harry slips into Avalon, new events are set in motion as he finds himself a new caretaker.





	1. Continuation of the Dream

“Your Highness, please stay here. I shall go get someone right away. Please endure until then. I shall certainly bring our troops here.”

Artoria Pendragon felt herself laid down to rest against a tree as consciousness slowly returned. She had fought a war against her own people and killed her own child. In her last moments she had cried out for the Holy Grail, hoping for a chance to redo things. To let someone else be King. Someone more skilled, better suited to keeping the country together. And yet, after reaching her goal and obtaining the Grail, she had destroyed it with her own hands. And in the end --

_Shirou -- I love you._

She had said those words. Her duty completed, she had allowed herself to become a human rather than a King. And with that, they had parted. Their time together had been little more than vapor in the wind, lasting but scant few moments before disappearing once more. Still, even as short as it had been, it had meaning.

She allowed her eyes to open up and look at her loyal knight. Even now, he was frantically readying himself to depart, to look for anything that might save his King. And so she called out to stop him. “Bedivere.”

"Your Highness?! Have you regained your consciousness…?!"

"…Yes. I was watching a dream." Artoria smiled slightly at the thought. Yes, perhaps that was the best way to think of it. A pleasant dream. Something to wish for, but that she could never hold.

“A dream…?” Her knight replied as though searching, hopeful that this small conversation would keep allow her to live.

“Yes. I have not seen many dreams, so I had a valuable experience.”

“...That is great. Then please be at ease and rest. I shall go get the troops in that time.”

Perhaps she made some sound, whether of surprise or desire for his words to be true. Her knight looked startled for a moment and asked, "Your highness? Have I been rude…?"

"No, I was just surprised at your point. I did not know a dream could be seen after one awakens. Are you saying I will be able to see the same dream if I close my eyes again…?"

Her knight hesitated before answering, "Yes. If you strongly desire so, you should be able to continue watching the same dream. I have that experience as well."

"I see. You are knowledgeable, Bedivere." Indeed, though he was the weakest of the members of her Round Table, he was often the one she had relied upon the most. He was the one who had never faltered in his loyalty and stood by her even now, when her failure was at its greatest. If he said that she could see that dream again one day, then perhaps she could truly hope it would be true.

However, before that could happen, she would ask one final task of him. She would ask for him to discharge her final duty in her place.

She takes a breath before commanding, “Bedivere. Take my sword. Pass through this forest and go over that blood-stained hill. There is a deep lake beyond it. Throw my sword into that lake.”

"Your Highness, that is--!"

Her knight knows the meaning of this command, of course. Her sword was the proof of her kingship, and what served to protect the King. In returning it, she was declaring an end to her reign, as well as the end to her life. It was a harsh command that she had given him, but she would not retract it. “Go. Once you have accomplished my order, return here and tell me what you saw.”

Her knight hesitated before finally taking her sword and leaving. It would test his loyalty, but he would ultimately obey, she was sure. She let out a slow breath, her gaze wandering to sunlight filtering through the leaves overhead. Though the sun was still high, the forest already seemed to be growing darker.

“I am sorry, Bedivere.” It seemed that she would fail to see his final task to the end. Her eyes gradually close, her thoughts turning to her dream, hoping to see it once more. 

Eventually the knight returned, sword still in hand, but his King was no longer there.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

By all accounts, Harry Potter was a strange child. He spent as much time away from home as he could get away with, but had few, if any, friends that he spent his time with. His cousin (bless the little tyke’s heart) would often seek Harry out to include in his games, but Harry still preferred being on his own more often than not. He would often be seen doing chores around the house, particularly maintaining his Aunt’s garden, and though his teachers would often describe him as a bright child, he was still seen as one who consistently underperformed for some reason. His Aunt and Uncle often described him as a delinquent to just about anyone who would listen.

Of course, none of this was really without reason. At some point in Harry’s life, his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had decided he was a freak. He wasn’t quite sure when, since they had called him that for as long as he could remember. Regardless, since he was a freak, they were determined to straighten him out. Of course spending time away from home was preferable when the alternative was getting hit whenever he did his chores too slowly or shoddily for his relatives’ liking, and no matter how quickly or well done his work, it was always too slow and too poor. Even worse was when they would lock him in his cupboard for days at a time without any food.

That was without even getting into his cousin Dudley’s games. Dudley had all sorts of mean-spirited games that he played along with his gang of followers, but the most popular by far was “Harry Hunting.” Simply put, Harry would lead them all on a merry chase and if Dudley caught Harry, then Harry would be beaten by Dudley’s gang. If Harry managed to escape, Harry would still be beaten, but this time at home when Dudley complained to his father that Harry had done something, real or imagined. So he often let himself be caught after running far enough to make Dudley too tired to do much besides throw a few kicks.

One would think school would offer a reasonable refuge, but Harry learned very quickly that it would not. Early on he had brought home better grades than Dudley, thinking this sort of normal accomplishment would finally allow his Aunt and Uncle to feel proud of him -- only for his Aunt to declare that Harry must have cheated. It was impossible that he would be smarter than his cousin Duddikins after all. 

All of this was ultimately because his Aunt and Uncle desired nothing more than to be completely normal. They had their perfectly normal house, with it well-looked after garden and white picket fence to keep out the riff-raff. Vernon had his perfectly normal job and Petunia was a perfectly normal housewife, with perhaps just a bit too much of an ear for gossip. They both had their own perfect child (at least in their eyes), and it was only begrudgingly that they had accepted the burden of caring for another, a child who had left their perfect lives imperfect.

Of course, one might say that in their pursuit of normalcy, the Dursleys were far more abnormal than anything Harry had done. After all, normal people did not call their children nearly exclusively as “Boy” or “Freak” instead of using their child’s name, and normal people wouldn’t force every household chore onto their child. Most of all, normal people did not lock children in cupboards and starve them, nor did normal people beat their children for the slightest imperfection. Perhaps, if Harry had shown himself to be a normal child as well, the Dursleys would have eventually realized this contradiction.

Unfortunately, Harry was not normal. Strange things often happened around him that he had no explanation for. Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn’t been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. Another time, his Aunt had tried to force him into an old sweater of Dudley’s, only for the sweater to seem to shrink and shrink until it could no longer fit over his head. Perhaps one of the most startling times had been when a teacher had been scolding him, only for her hair to turn blue.

He’d wound up in the cupboard for most of the week after that one.

On some level Harry had come to resent when these strange things happened around him. He knew that punishment would quickly follow. Still, right now he found himself wishing that something strange would happen once again. He darted a look behind himself as Dudley’s gang rounded a corner. He’d accidentally broken one of Dudley’s toys. If he let himself be caught, this would be worse than the usual round of Harry Hunting. 

He noticed Piers behind him and sprinted away, working to keep ahead of Dudley and his group. At the very least, he was faster than any of them. Long years of running from Dudley’s gang had seen to that. It didn’t seem to matter today though, as they weren’t willing to give up on chasing him.

Even worse, Dudley’s gang was being smart for a change. They were splitting up, cutting off escape routes, herding him back behind the school where they could trap him. Harry scrambled around a corner only to freeze as he saw Dudley in front of him. He glanced behind him and spotted Dennis and Malcolm closing in. Harry bit down on his lip. If only he could be somewhere else. He quickly turned, thinking he could break his way through, only to feel himself trip. 

Harry’s eyes widened as he saw the ground coming up towards his face and then -- he fell through the ground. 

His vision blanked out as he felt himself fall and fall, the fall never stopping even as winds buffeted him to and fro. No, not winds, it was the Earth itself crashing into him, breaking his bones. No, he was being swept about by waves, never quite certain of which direction was which and suffocating, as the air was ripped from his lungs, his body tossed about in a current. Except, this was no soothing water either, as he burned alive, every bit of him on fire as he melted into a pool of magma. And still he continued to fall until he knew no more.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

When Harry finally awoke, it was to a field of flowers. A blue sky stretched overhead, seemingly casting itself infinitely outwards. It was the sort of idyllic perfection that painters often sought and poets used as inspiration. It was like nowhere Harry had ever seen before. Harry simply wondered where he might be.

Harry slowly picked himself up off the ground, expecting some pain from the fall, only to find none. Even bruises that Aunt Petunia had left on him that morning for having made the bacon slightly crispier than she wanted it seemed to have vanished. He frowned slightly. How long had he been lying in this field? Looking around himself, he didn’t see anyone else, though a forest stood in the distance in one direction and in the other a white tower stood, outlined against the sky. Well, if he was to find out where he was, then the best place to find people would likely be that tower.

He began walking, but he couldn’t help but wonder. He had never been somewhere with so much nature or so few people. The closest he had come was the park in Surrey, but that was hardly worth commenting on. Wherever this was, it was certainly far from any city. What was more concerning, perhaps, was that however long he seemed to walk, the tower didn’t seem to grow any closer. It was as though he were walking on a treadmill, still somehow in the small meadow. He bit on his lip for a moment, beginning to worry, but not willing to stop until a voice called out behind him, “Oh, I thought something felt strange. How unusual for someone to slip through to here.” 

Harry turned and stared wide-eyed at the man who most certainly hadn’t been there a moment ago. The man was strange at a glance. His tousled white hair swayed gently in the wind, but despite his hair color, the man seemed rather young; he certainly didn’t seem like an old man at all. Even more unusual was the man’s clothes. He wore what seemed to be some sort of white robe, long and flowing with voluminous sleeves, though the intricate decorations certainly precluded the idea that it was a bathrobe of any sort. Perhaps the most strange thing was the man’s eyes however -- a soft lavender that seemed to peer into Harry and know the boy was thinking instinctively. 

Harry took a deep breath. Well, he had been looking for someone to give him directions, he might as well take his chances now that he had found someone. “And where might here be, Sir?”

“The Far Side of the World, you might say. Or at the very least, a small garden that I happen to look after. I don’t think that is actually the question you were looking to ask though, was it?”

“I’m not sure I would say that, given I know nothing about where here is, Sir.” Harry frowned and glanced around the meadow once again before looking at the man. There was something unsettling about him. More than his odd appearance at least. “Who are you? And how do I get home from here?”

The man’s smile widened and he leaned back to sit on a chair that Harry was sure had simply appeared in the moment that he had blinked. “Ah, now there’s a tricky question. For who I am, let’s say you can call me Emrys for now. It wouldn’t be any fun if I gave you my full name. Now as for how you get home, that’s another matter entirely. You see, this space is supposed to be closed off. It is not simple to either enter or leave. The fact that you arrived here by accident is already quite remarkable.”

“Then there’s no way for me to go home?”

“Ah, now I didn’t say that. The barriers here allowed you in, I dare say they will allow you out again. Of course, the question you should really be asking is if you want to leave at all.” Emrys grinned and stretched his hand out to tap the tip of his staff against Harry’s head. “I imagine even an unknown land is preferable to the house kept by your Aunt and Uncle, wouldn’t you say, Harry?”

Harry hesitated. Emrys wasn’t wrong. He had no idea where he was or who this stranger in front of him really was. But did it matter? How much worse could it possibly be than living with the Dursleys? Sure, Emrys was downright weird, but then, so was Harry, wasn’t he? “I suppose you’re right about that. But it’s not like I have anywhere else to go. It’s not like I can go around eating flowers and I wouldn’t know how to survive in the woods. So unless you’re offering to take care of me, Sir?”

It was a leading question, a fairly obvious one at that. Still, Emrys didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he simply waved his hand unconcernedly. “Oh, you won’t have to worry about that here. It does seem like you’ve made your decision regardless though. Shall we?”

With that, Emrys gestured behind himself to where the tower sat. But that couldn’t be right. Harry had been walking towards the tower when he turned to speak to Emrys, so shouldn’t the tower be behind Harry now? He spun wide-eyed to look behind himself, only to see a line of trees blocking his view. “How?”

“How did the tower move? I think you will find, young Harry, that distance and direction are much more relative here. You can easily see the distance to the tower, but it could take as little as five feet traveled to reach it, or as much as five miles. Space bends and stretches and is not quite the same as in the world above. Intent is much more important to reaching your destination.” Emrys smiled and took Harry’s hand to lead him onwards, even as the boy gaped for a moment before accepting the statement with the sort of credulity that only a child could bring to bear. 

As it turned out, the distance was neither five feet nor five miles to reach the tower -- it was twenty five feet. One moment they were walking through the meadow, the next they stood in front of the white edifice that seemed to stretch into the sky. It almost seemed too thin to support itself, like some great spear had been thrust into the ground rather than a work of architecture. Yet Harry was once again surprised as they stepped inside and found that the room was far larger inside than the circumference of the tower had suggested outside. Alabaster steps wound their way upwards in a gentle spiral, one that went on further than Harry could see, even with his vision unimpeded. Occasionally there were landings off to other rooms, but that white helix continued onwards into seeming infinity. 

What took his attention however, was what lay in the center of the room. There an altar was built, a bed of marble, upon which laid the unmoving form of a girl so beautiful that she stole Harry’s breath away. Emrys moved to the girl’s side, running a hand along her forehead and pushing back her bangs in a gesture of affection, before turning back to Harry.

“Is she dead?” Harry asked.

“No, simply sleeping for now. Though, it has been a long sleep indeed.” Emrys’ eyes turned wistful for a moment before he shook his head. “I hope you don’t mind stairs, we’ve a few to walk up and I have a few things to tell you.”

Harry simply nodded and followed after. “Who is she?”

Emrys went silent for a long moment before finally answering, “A friend of mine. She was once my student and almost like a daughter to me in some ways. And in the end, I failed to protect her.” 

“What happened to her?” Harry asked.

“That is a somewhat more complicated question than you might realize. I suppose in the end it comes down to a sister’s jealousy. Much like your Aunt Petunia was jealous of your Mother, my student’s sister was jealous of her.” Emrys shook his head. “Morgan had great potential, but could never accept that some things could not be hers.”

“Wait, Aunt Petunia was jealous of my Mom?” Harry suddenly stopped as the implications of everything the stranger had been telling him finally caught up. “And how did you know my name anyways? And everything about the Dursleys? Have you been watching me?”

“I’ll admit, I’m a little surprised that it took you this long to ask! Though, are you really that surprised after everything else you’ve seen here?” Emrys let out a loud laugh before practically skipping up the steps and turning about with a grandiose gesture that sent his robe fluttering. “The simple answer is that magic makes knowing a great deal about the world a much easier task. Afterall, Harry, I am a wizard.” 

“Wow, that’s uh. I guess that makes everything that’s been happening since I wound up here make a lot more sense.” 

“Yes, but that isn’t even the best bit of news, you know. Do you want to guess what other bit of news I have for you?”

Emrys’ grin only widened as Harry stared blankly in return, before the man finally leaned in and said conspiratorially, “You’re a wizard too, Harry.”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Harry had stood stone still, silently in shock for a while after that, before Emrys finally urged him to keep walking at least. The wizard however, kept talking as they continued to ascend. “I suppose the first thing to get out of the way is where you will be staying. I know I somewhat implied you would stay with me, but that isn’t strictly true. I might be able to arrange a bridge of sorts to allow you to visit this place, but you still belong in the outer world. Staying here would be detrimental to you in the long run.”

Harry felt his fists clench for a moment and he blinked back the sudden tears that formed. He barely even knew Emrys, had no idea if this place would have been better, and yet… “You mean, I’ll have to go back to the Dursleys’ after all?”

“Oh Heavens, no. While you can’t stay here in this tower, that doesn’t mean I’ll simply be abandoning you. I will be making arrangements for you to live somewhere else.”

Another knot of worry released, though Harry was glad he was walking behind Emrys now. He didn’t want the man to see his face in that moment. “Who would I be staying with then?” 

“Ah, that is the question, isn’t it? I’ll be able to visit fairly often, but I can’t really act the part of a guardian. I’m half tempted to wake Artoria up down there and shove the job onto her. However, while acting the part of a mother might be good for her, I doubt you would fare as well under her guidance. And that doesn’t even get into the problems for her if she were to wake up now. Although…” Emrys tapped a finger against his jaw, a speculative look crossing his face. “Well, that aside, I need to check a few things, so that’s what we’ll be doing first.” He turned at a landing and gestured Harry inside. “And here we are. In you go.”

Harry did as he was told, only to stop in the entryway. After everything he had seen, he had expected something extraordinary. A bed made of clouds or a simmering cauldron maybe. Instead, he saw a rather normal couch, desk, and even what could almost pass as a television, if it weren’t so large and flat, and seemed to be made of crystal instead of glass. Emrys simply pushed Harry inside before bustling in himself, flopping his entire body down on the couch and grabbing a remote to start flipping through the T.V. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, I’ll let you know when I have a bit more information.”

Harry shrugged uncomfortably before wandering about to check out the rest of the room. Emrys certainly lived an eccentric life from the looks of things. There was a shelf full of small sculptures that had been painted and posters that had been thrown on the walls. Various odds and ends were left scattered about the floor, though Harry couldn’t identify most of them. The bed somehow managed to simultaneously look rumpled yet unused. There was another small screen with a keyboard attached on the desk. A computer, Harry thought, though he’d never seen one before, only heard them described in school. 

Stepping carefully over a sword that was laying on the ground before almost tripping in a pile of robes, Harry decided to check out the computer. He reached out and touched the screen only to jump back as an image suddenly appeared on it. He leaned in again, squinting at what appeared to be a female version of Emrys, with the words “Magi★Mari” printed along the side, as though to print for a poster.

Harry glanced back to where Emrys was muttering to himself while flipping through images on the telly. “Longbottoms won’t work… Malfoys are definitely right out. Bones? No, there’s only Amelia available and she’s likely to be away as often as I am. Black would be good, but would take some work to be viable…” 

Harry cleared his throat. Would it be rude to interrupt? “Erm… Did you have a sister, Sir?”

The man blinked, his train of thought interrupted and turned to look at Harry. “No. Why?”

“Well,” Harry simply pointed at the computer screen, feeling no need to explain further. He wasn’t even sure what he would say to explain this if he attempted to.

“Oh! That! That reminds me that I need to message my fans again sometime soon. But don’t worry about that, Harry, that’s just something of a side project.” Emrys winked, “A practical joke of sorts.” 

Harry stared. He wasn’t quite sure what kind of joke involved dressing up as a woman. Emrys stared back until Harry finally broke eye contact and looked away. “So uh, have you decided what’s going to happen with me yet?”

“Well, I’ve given it some thought. Since you brought the subject up, how do you feel about pulling a bit of a prank on the Wizarding world?”

“I’d rather not dress up as a woman, if that’s okay,” Harry deadpanned.

Emrys grinned and replied, “Oh, don’t discount it so quickly, Harry. I’m sure you would make a very cute girl if you wanted to. But no, I was thinking you could change your name and pretend to be my son. I’ll introduce you to society, show you around a bit and then ask a few nice people if they would watch over you while I travel for my work. I’d be back often to visit of course, but it would let you socialize with people your own age, while keeping me as your legal guardian. At least, as far as anyone else knows.”

Harry shrugged slightly. “I suppose. I don’t really have a problem with it. Why do I need to change my name though?”

“Well, both you and your parents are quite famous in the Wizarding World. Something to do with them being heroes who died defeating a Dark Lord or some such.”

“Heroes?!” Harry gasped, a sudden sense of pride filling him. “Uncle Vernon always said they were drunks who died in a car crash!” 

“Yes, well, I think we both know what the Dursleys were like and just how likely that statement was to be true.” Emrys rolled his eyes. “Anyways, everyone will be watching for Harry Potter. Their interest won’t be quite as piqued by Harry Wyllt, though I’m sure your charming self will still manage to make waves. I won’t force it on you if you don’t want to though.”

“No, that’s not a problem. I mean -- it’s fine, Sir. I’d rather not have people paying too much attention to me anyways. Who was this Dark Lord that my parents killed?”

“Voiredemorne, maybe? I can’t really remember, it was something silly and French like that. Anyways, I don’t think you can really avoid drawing attention, Harry. The only thing we can do is delay it and address it on our own terms. Now hold still a moment--” Harry blinked as a tingling sensation ran over his head. “And there, I’ve hidden your scar and changed your hair color to match mine.”

Harry blinked and raised his hand to his head. He could still feel his scar. Emrys just rolled his eyes. “It’s still there, I’ve just hidden it. More importantly, I should probably start teaching you the basics if we’re going to start showing you around.”

“The basics?” Harry’s breath caught. “You mean magic? You’ll teach me magic? I’ll learn to do the sort of things you’ve been doing?”

“Ah, I know I must have captivated your imagination already, but unfortunately I have more important things to teach you first.” 

“What could be more important than learning magic?” Harry groused. It might be nice if Emrys could tell him more about his parents, but it didn’t seem like the man knew them, just knew about them. In which case, learning how to fly and shoot fireballs around was the obvious priority.

Emrys simply grinned, something Harry was quickly coming to associate with trouble. Harry groaned when he finally answered.

“Etiquette.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and welcome to my new story. There's a few relevant points that I think will be important to get out of the way early on.
> 
> First, is that I'm very likely to use characters from Fate/Stay Night down the line. I'm aware that if we're going strictly by the canon timeline of these two stories, that should be impossible. Harry Potter starts in 1991 while Fate is in 2004. For the purposes of this story however, time is wibbly and wobbly and Fate should occur about when Harry starts school at Hogwarts.
> 
> Second, is that this the first fic that I've published. As such, I am looking for someone to beta. To be clear, I'm not looking for basic editing passes so much as I am looking for someone who I can bounce ideas off of, and who can tell me when I need to put more detail into a scene, as it's rather easy for me to have the details in my head and not have it translate into words when I'm writing. Please feel free to PM me if you're interested.
> 
> That said, I hope everyone will enjoy this story.


	2. Polite Society

“I don’t really see why we have to go through all this. Couldn’t you just make any of this yourself?” 

Harry Wyllt glared up at his guardian. Most children new to the Wizarding World would be astounded by Diagon Alley the first time they saw it. It was exotic in it’s own bustling way, with all sorts of sights, sounds, smells, and even tastes. Witches in pointed hats stalked the alley and children crowed about the latest broomstick models. Of course, most children new to the Wizarding World hadn’t spent the last month being trained on exactly what they should expect and how they should act while living in a magical ivory tower.

“Of course not. I mean, yes, I could conjure you a pair of robes for yourself, but we’ve gone over enough of the basics of magical theory that you should know exactly what would happen if I did.”

Harry flushed red. Well, he had tried to soak in every magical lesson that Emrys had given him, but it had been honestly all rather confusing. “Um. Well, magic is essentially just lying to the world to trick it into doing something for you. When the world realizes the mistake, it fixes it. So I guess if you conjured some robes for me, they would eventually vanish. Probably while I was wearing them, knowing my luck.”

Emrys laugh and lifted a hand to ruffle Harry’s hair. “Yes, well reasoned, and it would probably end up happening in front of a group of girls too. No need to get a reputation as a flasher just yet, Harry.” 

Harry smiled happily in response. It always felt nice knowing that Emrys was proud when he’d learned something well. Though, he could do without the embarrassment that some of Emrys’ comments tended to cause. At the end of the day, Emrys would often have a rather crass sense of humor and while Harry usually understood that a joke was being made, he didn’t always understand what exactly the joke meant, or was left feeling rather bashful if he did. 

“So what all are we getting today then?”

“Well, you’ll need a pair of dress robes for tonight, obviously. I figured we might also get you a few magical theory books so that you can read up while I’m not around, as well as maybe sneak you a wand a bit early to practice with.” Emrys waved his arms around as he talked, seemingly always needing to do something with his hands. This wasn’t really a problem in the tower, but here in the crowded street it saw him accidentally bumping witches and wizards as they walked along. Though, they always seemed quick to forgive him as he smiled apologetically. Witches especially had a tendency to blush and smile back. Regardless, he kept the two of them moving. “Before any of that though, we’ll have to visit Gringotts.”

“Gringotts? That’s the bank right? And why a wand? Why not a staff like the one you have?”

“Well, for one thing, a wand is much easier to hide than a staff. And strictly speaking, you aren’t legally supposed to have a wand just yet.” Emrys shot a wink at another witch before ushering Harry up the stairs to the bank and leading him inside. “It will be easier to learn with as well . That’s not to say we can’t get you a staff as well when you’re older, but for now a wand will be a better fit for you.”

Harry narrowed his eyes but nodded. He’d learned not to take Emrys’ explanations at face value. They were usually a cover for the man simply being too lazy to do something. It was probably actually something as simple as they would have to go out of their way to make a staff while a wand crafter was just up the street. Still, it was a reasonable enough explanation, so he let it slide for now and followed Emrys up to the teller where the man had begun chatting up a rather exasperated looking goblin. 

“Aggrod! How’ve you been? Those investments in Zwentibolds that I recommended working out for you?” 

Emrys grinned and nudged the goblin with his elbow, who simply scowled back and said in a clipped tone, “How can Gringotts help you today, Sir?”

“Ah, straight to business then? Well, I need to add Harry here to the Emrys account and make a withdrawal afterwards. So, if you could let Kragnar know that I need to see him, that would be just peachy.” 

The goblin’s jaw dropped at the mention of the account name, his eyes darting to Emrys’ face in shocked realization. With a rather strangled sounding voice the goblin said, “Right away, Sir. Please follow me to our waiting room and I’ll let Kragnar know that his account holder is here.” With that, the goblin quickly led them out of the lobby to a room that was largely bare apart from a table with a bowl set on it, before practically scurrying away.

“You know, I hate to be suspicious of you, Emrys --”

“Well, now that’s just an outright lie, Harry. It’s your favourite thing to do.”

Harry ignored him and continued, “I hate to be suspicious, but did you do something to that goblin? Or goblins in general?”

Emrys waved a hand airly before dropping into a rather comfortable looking chair at the head of the table that occupied the room. “Oh, I can’t imagine anything too terrible. Though, I suppose there was that one time when I met Garnok, their king at the time.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he hissed out, “What did you do to their King, Emrys?!”

“Oh, it’s nothing that terrible. I mean, we just went for a few rounds of drinks together. Well, he was a bit young at the time and still a bit of a lightweight and woke up with about a dozen wives instead of being the single bachelor he had been. I can’t imagine it would be anything to hold a grudge over. Though, I suppose he wasn’t too happy that one of his new wives was his sister. I don’t know why, he’d certainly enjoyed himself consummating things the night before.”

Harry just groaned and laid his head on the table. “We’re going to be executed, aren’t we?”

The door opened and a much older goblin stepped through. “You won’t have to worry about that, Young Wizard. Mister… Emrys’ debt to the Goblin Nation has long since been paid off.” The goblin peered at Emrys through the spectacles that hung rather precariously upon his crooked nose. “And he won’t be repeating the mistake, will he?”

Emrys raised his hands. “You know me, always on my best behavior, Kragnar.”

Kragnar simply let out a snort. “We’ll see about that. Now what’s this about adding someone to your account?”

“Ah yes, Harry here will be acting the part of my son for the foreseeable future, so he’ll likely need to be capable of making withdrawals on his own every now and then. He’ll need a copy of the key as well.”

The goblin turned his attention onto Harry. “I wasn’t aware you had any progeny. Blood relation?”

“No, you’ll need to key his blood in to the wards.”

Kragnar nodded and jotted something into the folder he was carrying, before pulling a knife from his belt. “If you would, Young Wizard, three drops of blood into the bowl should suffice.”

Harry eyed the knife warily for a moment before finally taking it. He let out a small hiss of pain as he pricked his finger and let it drip over the bowl. “So is that it?”

Kragnar dipped a quill into the blood and drew it across his parchment, writing something, before furrowing his brow. “Now that is a surprise. Yes, Mister Potter, that should be it for you. May I suggest the two of you go retrieve what gold you might need while we update the wards and create a copy of the key for you?”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Harry decided that mine carts were clearly the superior form of travel. They had rocketed down tunnel after tunnel, occasionally making the odd precipitous drop or rushing through unlit darkness. It was everything a rollercoaster ought to be, apart from the lack of restraints to keep one from flying out. Regardless, both wizards had made their way safely down to Emrys’ vault and had it open in short order.

Harry had stared at the mountains of gold, but Emrys only looked curious if anything, and made a comment about how his investments must have grown recently. 

“What sort of things are you invested in?”

“Oh, all sorts. I’m told it’s important to keep a diverse portfolio.” Emrys grinned even as he scooped far more coins into a pouch than Harry would have thought the pouch was capable of holding. “Let’s see, I have some shares in Cleansweep Brooms, though I’ve been thinking of selling my share of the company and investing elsewhere. Cleansweep just hasn’t been keeping up with the market lately. Beyond that, there’s Madam Malkin’s, who you’ll get your school robes from in a few months, and Flourish and Blotts, who we’ll be visiting for books later this afternoon. Basically, I made a priority of any businesses that cater to up and coming students.”

“Huh. So relatively stable businesses that are unlikely to boom but will do well over the long-term then?”

“Seems about right, though I was more concerned with seeing to it that students got what they needed for a quality education.” 

Emrys shrugged slightly before gesturing Harry out of the vault and back into the minecart. It was a bit of a shame that they only had to take the two trips, as Harry wouldn’t have minded more time in the carts. They were soon back out in Diagon Alley however and Emrys was tugging Harry along to a store off the main thoroughfare. Harry had been curious exactly where they would end up. Emrys had mentioned books and a wand earlier, of course, but it felt like he’d taken out more money than was needed for just that much. Of course, it wasn’t as though Harry knew how much what Emrys had taken out was actually worth, it just seemed like a lot of gold to him. 

It turned out that their first destination was to get him a new pair of glasses. The storekeeper cast a series of spells on Harry’s eyes, all while Emrys played with some of the sample frames that were on display in the background. In the end, Harry had walked out with both a set of frames that were more of a rounded rectangle in shape, as well as some sort of magical contacts that he would only need to replace about once a year. 

“Why buy both? Why not just the contact lenses?”

“While the contacts are useful to keep yourself from being caught off guard, I can enchant the glasses for a few useful tricks. Besides, you’ll never know when it’s helpful to let your enemy, and also girls sometimes, think you’re blind even though you can see perfectly well.”

With that, they were off to their next destination. Fortunately, their next stop turned out to be quite quick, as Emrys picked up a trunk for Harry to keep his things in, including everything they might purchase on this trip. Harry poked his head inside, discovering an entire room inside one of the compartments before dragging the feather-light trunk along behind him.

After that the pair left for Twilfitt and Tattings, as clothes were apparently next on the agenda, and the next half hour saw Harry being measured every which way and fitted for a set of dress robes. It was a bit of a chore, the tape measures had a tendency to move on their own and the actual sewing took ages, but he honestly didn’t mind it too much. He got to look a bit more like Emrys afterwards, after all, donning a set of white robes contrasted by a black shirt and pants with green highlights. The storekeeper (a Miss Rosalind Oakwood) positively gushed about how it would match his eyes. 

Once an entirely new wardrobe had been deposited in his trunk (and on his person), they were off once again. Harry thought that they would set off to buy his wand now, but was proven wrong when Emrys pulled him aside to enter Zonko’s instead, with the Wizard quickly loading his trunk up with prank items. Harry directed a rather unamused stare at the man. While he wasn’t against pranks per se, his wand was waiting for him . Emrys simply grinned in response and made as though to pull him off to Eeylops, before finally pulling Harry into Ollivanders once it was clear his latest joke had run its course. 

Harry stopped for a moment as they stepped inside. Something about this place felt different, like there was a charge to the air that hadn’t been anywhere else they had visited today. It reminded him a bit of the tower that he and Emrys had been living in, though it wasn’t quite as strong. He glanced around at the thousands of narrow boxes that were piled up to the ceiling before stepping in a bit further. The place lay silent, with the sort of silence that he might ascribe to a library or a church.

“Good afternoon,” said a soft voice, and Harry jumped as he suddenly noticed the old man, with wide pale eyes that shimmered like moons. “Now, this is a bit strange.”

“Er, how is it strange, Sir?” Harry jumped slightly as he felt a sudden stinging sensation in his backside. Emrys had been trying to train him out of any ‘filler’ sounds like ‘Er’ or ‘Um.’ 

“Oh, it’s just that I remember every wand that I’ve ever made. Yet, I cannot remember making one for you.” Ollivander’s gaze turned towards Emrys before sweeping back towards Harry. “And if I am not mistaken, you should not be due here for another month, Mister Potter.”

Harry stiffened at the sudden identification, but Emrys simply smiled in response and lifted his hands up. “You caught me. I was a bit of a precocious youth and crafted my own foci. As for Harry, he has some special circumstances, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“Oh, I am sure he does. Regardless, you are aware the British Ministry Law states he won’t be allowed to use his wand until he’s eleven and under proper supervision?”

 

“Of course. I shall give the Ministry no cause for concern.”

Ollivander let out a small harrumph before looking at Harry. “Well then, Mister Potter let’s find you your wand. Perhaps a nice willow wand like your mother? You do have her eyes, after all.”

“I’m not really sure--”

“Or a mahogany wand like your father perhaps? Yes, I remember that one. Eleven inches and pliable, excellent for transfiguration.”

“Well--”

“And of course we cannot forget the wand that left this on you.” Ollivander’s finger came up to trace along Harry’s scar. The scar that Harry was sure that Emrys had hidden with his magic. “Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. A very powerful wand.”

Harry stood there frozen for a long moment before Ollivander abruptly moved, pulling out a tape measure. “Now which arm is your wand arm?”

“I’m right handed, but--”

“Hold out your arm. That’s it.” What followed was a series of incomprehensible measurements, which included the circumference of Harry’s head as well as the distance between his nostrils, before searching through wand after wand. With each wand, Ollivander would snatch it away almost the instant Harry touched it, muttering softly to himself about how Harry was a “Tricky customer.” At one point he seemed to have an idea, only to almost seem to visibly deflate after a Holly and Phoenix Feather wand failed his test.

After that, he tore through the shop searching before finally placing a final wand in Harry’s hand. Harry felt a rush of warmth down his arm, though Ollivander himself seemed disappointed with the results. “A partial match at least. I’ve never had a customer give me as much trouble as you before, Mister Potter. I suspect to get a true match, you will have to use materials that I do not normally work with. In any case, this is the best we seem to have available for you at the moment. Red Oak, twelve and a quarter inches and fairly flexible with a phoenix feather core. It is a wand that is fast to respond, good for those who are quick and adaptable. I do hope it serves you well.”

Harry smiled softly and gave the wand another subtle swish through the air, enjoying the feel of it in his hand. “I’m sure it will, Mister Ollivander. Thank you.”

With that, Emrys paid for the wand and the wizards left the store.

“So how does it feel? Is it everything you imagined?”

“It feels… warm almost. Like it’s an actual living thing.” Harry smiled down at his wand for a moment before Emrys nudged him. 

“Well, put it away for now. We don’t want you stroking it too much and shooting things out where everyone can see.”

Harry stared blankly for a moment, failing to get the joke, but realizing that there must have been one. Eventually though, he slipped his wand into his robes. He still wasn’t technically supposed to have it according to the British Ministry, after all.

Not getting to play with the wand was a bit disappointing, but Harry brightened up once Emrys pronounced, “Now let’s get you your books, shall we?” 

Fortunately, Flourish and Blotts was relatively empty, as it was still early summer and the lists of required texts for Hogwarts had yet to be sent out. There were a few pleasure shoppers, but none of the rush that would come in once the school lists were sent out the following month. Harry felt it was a great opportunity to really look for useful material and spells that he could finally practice. 

In the end though, Emrys insisted on the basics: theory books for Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions. Harry noted sourly that there was only practical instruction for a few basic spells and nothing he would consider interesting after living with Emrys for the last month. Thankfully, he did manage to wheedle Emrys into buying books on Arithmancy and Ancient Runes as well, since they related to more complex magical theory and would be good preparation for the future. 

“Really, at this rate I should paint your room in blue. You’re almost certainly a shoe in for Ravenclaw.” Emrys smiled softly, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth as the pair finally sat down for lunch. 

Harry frowned down into his shepherd’s pie. “Is that a bad thing? You haven’t told me much about Hogwarts yet, honestly.”

 

“Not at all. All four Houses were founded with different virtues in mind, and they all have both their strengths and weaknesses. I’m sure you’ll do your House proud no matter where you end up.”

“Which House were you in?”

Emrys hummed quietly before winking and saying, “Ah, now that’s a secret.” He took a bite of his pudding before continuing, “I wouldn’t want to unfairly bias you. You’ll find your House when you get there. No need to worry about it before then. Just worry about making friends for yourself.”

Harry chewed on his lip before finally nodding. Wherever he wound up, he hoped he’d make Emrys proud of him and the progress he’d made.

“So, do you think you’re ready for tonight then?”

Harry glanced up at the question, his other big worry suddenly brought to mind. He forced a smile to his face however and replied, “Of course. What’s one little Ball? As long as I’m not expected to dance anyways.”

Emrys laughed softly. “Yes, you turned out to be surprisingly terrible with your feet. We’ll just have to teach you next year instead. For now, we’ll settle with introducing the Wizarding World to Hadrian Wyllt.”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Daphne Greengrass was positively bored with this year’s Litha Ball. The Malfoys spared no expense of course, the Summer Solstice gave more excuse than usual to decorate everything in gold, and they invited just about everyone with even an ounce of political power, but the whole thing was dreadfully stuffy. It didn’t help that most of the guests were adults, with only a few children her age mixed. And of those children, clear dividing lines were already being drawn based on their parents’ politics.

The Longbottoms refused to come, of course. They hated anything to do with the Malfoys. Susan had come, her Aunt was too highly placed in the Ministry to refuse coming outright, but she was clearly keeping her distance from Malfoy’s group. Abbott had joined Susan, but across the room Draco himself was already being flanked by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, while some of the other Traditionalist children were starting to gravitate towards him. Pansy was practically hanging off his every word and Nott and Montague were both close enough to be associated while having their own conversation off to the side. 

It was all rather tiresome, if she was being honest with herself. She wished that either Tracey or Astoria were here at least, but Tracey’s family was on vacation and Daphne’s parents had decided Astoria was still too young for this sort of event and would inevitably get in trouble if left to her own devices. Maybe she’d get lucky and Hestia and Flora had decided to come. She scanned the crowd before stopping to blink at a head of white hair weaving through the crowd. Now that was strange, she thought she’d gotten to know just about everyone who tended to show up at these sort of events. Daphne made her way closer, curious who this newcomer could be. Her eyebrows only raised slightly as she noticed that they were talking with her father of all people.

“...Travelling too much to really settle in, but I figured with Hadrian here going to Hogwarts in a few months, he should probably get the chance to meet some of his peers and make some friends.”

The man was strange. Nothing stood out, of course, he seemed every inch a pure blooded gentleman, but there were small things off about him. There was his hair of course, he seemed too young for white hair. However magic did do strange things on occasion, and it wouldn’t be the first time a strange hair color had popped up in a family. She’d even heard rumors of some of the families on the continent having purple hair of all things. His white robes were certainly elegant and worthy of any Lord, but most in this social circle would know that white had been out of fashion for a quite a while now. Most went for darker colors these days. Perhaps it was just an affectation, something to match with his hair. Still, there was something off about his gestures and even his accent now that she thought about it. Well, he did say something about travelling, so perhaps he simply spent a great deal of time abroad. And yet even still, something niggled at her. 

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be a problem to watch after him and show him around. Are you alright with that, Hadrian?”

“Yes, Sir, thank you for having me.”

Daphne was startled for a moment as the voice drew her to a third person that she’d missed with how busy she’d been examining the stranger. It looked to be a boy of about her age, with the same messy white hair that the stranger had. His tone was more polite and his glasses lent him something of a studious air that the adult lacked. Perhaps he felt her staring at him though, as after a moment he turned his head to look at her, offering a shy smile.

She coughed and looked away, heat flooding her cheeks. It wasn’t that he was handsome -- well, he was a bit cute she supposed -- but far more mortifying was the fact that she’d been caught staring. After a moment her father followed the boy’s gaze and called out to her. “Daphne, come over here. I have someone to introduce you to.”

Daphne swallowed and forcibly calmed herself as she approached, careful to mask any emotion. It was how a proper lady of society was meant to act in public, after all. “Yes, Father?”

Her father gave her an indulgent smile. He always said she took her mask a bit far, but well, he was a man. Of course he wouldn’t have any idea how a woman had to act to be socially acceptable. “Daphne, this is Emrys Wyllt and his son Hadrian Wyllt. Emrys does quite a bit of travelling for his work, so he was asking if Hadrian could stay with us for the rest of summer, since he will be starting Hogwarts with you.”

“I see. Then allow me to welcome you to our home, Hadrian. I hope your visit will be a pleasant one.” The boy gave her another smile and Daphne had to fight down the urge to smile in return as she decided that redirecting the conversation away from him was in order. “What is it that you do for work, Mister Wyllt?”

The man’s eyes twinkled, as though amused by something, but he answered, “Oh, I’m a magical researcher. Most of my work I can do at home, but you wouldn’t believe just how many international conferences there are to attend every year.”

“I see. Is there a particular area of interest to you in your research? And you said at home, do you not work with the Ministry?”

“Rituals and their effects have always been noteworthy for me. As for the Ministry, well, I’ve always found myself more productive when not under the watchful eye of the bureaucracy.”

Daphne cocked an eyebrow. There were very few rituals that weren’t classified as Dark, and the man had as much as admitted that he ignored the Ministry’s rules. To be fair, most Traditionalist families had at least one or two Dark rituals that they quietly performed. They weren’t brazen enough to simply talk about their defiance of the Ministry though. And yet, her father was happily watching the two interact, as though he’d heard nothing wrong in what the man had just said.

The man grinned at her and she suddenly had the feeling that she was missing something. That she was being tricked somehow, and this was all some joke at her expense. She looked back at her father who finally let out a laugh. “Daphne, the Wyllt’s come from a Druidic line.”

That… would certainly explain some things. Druidism was a well known form of ritual magic that interacted primarily with nature. It had deep roots here in Britain, and there were quite a few old families that traced themselves back to ancient druids. Despite that, Druidism had largely fallen out of favor, and those families that were still active practitioners were somewhat infamous for staying on the edge of society and having a particular dislike for the Ministry. She wasn’t quite sure of the whys involved, especially since Druidism was still generally seen as respectable, if outdated, but things made sense if Emrys Wyllt was a practicing druid. 

“I think we’ve amused ourselves enough with Daphne’s reactions for tonight.” Her father shot Wyllt a smile before looking back to Daphne. “Why don’t you take Hadrian and introduce him to some of the other children, Daphne?”

She took a deep breath before nodding her acceptance. “If you would follow me then, Hadrian?” The boy seemed a bit quiet so far, but he still had to be better than being actively teased by the two adults. 

The boy nodded and waited until they had stepped away to say, “Please call me Harry. Hadrian’s a bit stuffy to be going by all the time.”

“Alright Harry. Though, this is a rather stuffy kind of event.” She gave him a small smile of her own before turning away. “Your father mentioned that he travelled quite frequently. Did you often accompany him?”

“Oh, not really. I mostly stayed home. Our house is rather isolated though, so I still haven’t been to many events like these before either.”

“Well, I’m sure you will have plenty of chances over July and August if you’re staying with us. Mother and Father do enjoy their chances to socialize.” Daphne refrained from rolling her eyes. A proper lady did not roll her eyes. She wanted to though. These balls where she just stood around and mingled with the other children were getting to be a bit of a chore after all. Though, if Harry didn’t have anyone he knew here, it did beg the question of who to introduce him to first. Technically speaking, she should let him meet Draco first, since it was the Malfoys’ event, but it wasn’t strictly required, and she could do without seeing people fawn over Draco for a bit longer. She decided the Bones were important enough to warrant as a suitable substitute.

“You make that sound like such a terrible thing. Well, at least I should be in good company when I do.”

Daphne smirked. “Oh, I didn’t know you had found my father to be such good company already, Harry.” She suppressed a laugh as it looked like Harry wanted to object and pulled on his arm to interrupt him before he could. “And here’s our first person for you to meet. Good evening Susan. Good evening Hannah.”

The two girls looked up at their approach, a moment of confusion crossing their features. Susan was ultimately the first one to speak up, raising a hand to brush her red hair back over her shoulder in what was likely an unconscious nervous gesture. “Good evening Daphne. It’s rare for you to come see us. Who’s this?”

“Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, meet Harry Wyllt. Harry will be staying with my family for a little while and father asked me to show him around.”

The boy gave another shy smile before bowing to each girl and raising their offered hands to his lips in turn. “A pleasure to meet you Miss Bones, Miss Abbott. I’ll be looking forward to getting to know both of you a bit better in the future.”

Well, he had manners at least, even if it made Daphne wonder why she hadn’t received the same treatment. She pursed her lips for a moment, watching as the two girls giggled softly. It was Hannah who answered him however. “We would happy to get to know you better, Harry. What led to you staying with the Greengrasses?”

Daphne let her attention drift as Harry answered the girls’ questions, scanning the room for other people. Honestly, she didn’t talk to Susan and Hannah that often, but she usually got along with them just fine when she did. Why was she suddenly feeling so annoyed by them? It was the giggling she decided. Ladies did not giggle, so she must be annoyed by their lack of decorum. Clearly. 

She let out an annoyed sound, only to freeze when the group’s attention suddenly turned towards her. Why had she done that? Now they all knew that she hadn’t been paying attention! She needed an excuse or a distraction or -- Yes, that would work! “Oh, I see Zabini over there. Come on, Harry, we have quite a few people to introduce you to before the night is over.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, but simply gave an apologetic smile and a murmured, “Excuse me,” to Susan and Hannah before following after her. 

Good. Daphne smiled to herself as Harry followed her lead. Besides, Harry was a boy, he would obviously enjoy having other boys to be friends with rather than meeting with girls all evening. Then, Susan called out, “Don’t be a stranger!” And Daphne was left gritting her teeth.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Harry let out a soft sigh and combed his fingers through his hair as he settled into his new room at the Greengrass estate. Cyrus and Roxanne had been nothing but hospitable. Their daughters on the other hand… Well, at least Astoria just seemed shy. She had hidden behind her mother and only peeked out at him when Cyrus had introduced them. It was better than Daphne who had seemed vaguely irritated with him all night.

He hoped he hadn’t messed things up with her too badly. At least Hannah and Susan had been nice and he’d already made plans to meet up with Blaise again to try flying his broomsticks around sometime soon. She’d taken him to meet Draco after that, and he’d been a bit of a ponce, but at least he left on friendly terms at least. He doubted he’d be spending too much time with the Malfoy scion outside of big social gatherings like that one however. 

Harry couldn’t say he was unhappy. He’d made new friends and the Greengrasses had been kind to him despite having just met him. Yet, he couldn’t help but slump on his bed. The room felt too quiet. There was no Emrys talking at all hours of the night or snoring away on a couch. Emrys had told him that he would visit often, but apparently he couldn’t stay in the outside world. Something about how he couldn’t actually leave the tower. It apparently hadn’t been his real body accompanying Harry down Diagon Alley and to the Ball, but was instead some sort of magical projection. Solid enough to interact with, but not anything permanent.

He let out a frustrated breath. There wasn’t any use dwelling on things like that. If he couldn’t see Emrys all the time, then he’d just have to make the best use of his time to master magic so that he could impress Emrys when the man did show up. He pulled his new wand out and ran his hand fondly along its length. The only time he’d let it out of his reach today had been when Emrys had taken it in order to remove the magic that the Ministry used to detect underage casting. 

He smiled slightly and closed his eyes. Their focus during Harry’s lessons had been on how to behave around other wizards and things that were unique to wizards, like Floo Powder, so that he wouldn’t seem like an idiot. It had left precious little timing for learning any actual magic, and even when they did talk about magic, Emrys clearly preferred to drill theory into his head over letting him cast any actual spells. Well, he’d snuck a look at one of the books that Emrys had gotten him and chosen a simple spell. Tonight he’d do magic for the first time.

Of course, he knew it wasn’t as a simple as waving his wand about and saying the spell. Emrys had said something about how a wizard would naturally draw power from the world into his body and convert it into a spell, and how a spell was basically lying to the world, tricking it into believing something that wasn’t true. Once the world figured out that it had been lied to, it would fix the mistake, but the more magical energy you put into a spell, the longer it would take for the world to fix it. Thus, the best wizards were also the best liars, according to Emrys, as you could make a spell last longer with less magical energy if you were better at convincing the world that it was the way things ought to be.

The problem was -- How was he supposed to do that? He tried to focus on his body, but he couldn’t feel any sort of strange energy. Nothing like the prickling on his skin that he felt staying in Emrys’ tower. There was the heat in his wand, but he was supposed to be sending energy to his wand, not drawing energy from it. 

He chewed on his lip, his brow furrowing in concentration. And then he realized it. The heat in his wand wasn’t steady, it wasn’t constant. It fluctuated and pulsed, a heart beat in time with his own. He let himself fall into that sensation. A wave crashing against the shore, only to pull back, before running in once again. Heat seemed to build in his body with each passing swell. Fire rushed through his veins and lightning danced along his nerves as he lifted his wand and calmly declared his spell, somehow already knowing that it would succeed.

_“Lumos.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everyone. Thank you for making it to the second chapter of this fic. I hope all of you enjoyed it. Also, thank you to my two betas who volunteered to help me, rickyp01 and swatforest. While we were here, I figured I’d take the chance to address a few things however.
> 
> First, is the nature of King Arthur. Since I saw it brought up in the reviews, and perhaps not everyone reading this is familiar with the Fate franchise; in Fate, King Arthur was a woman. She disguised herself as a man, reigned as King, and was recorded into history as a male King, despite her actual gender. Thus, Artoria Pendragon was King of Britain, not Queen.
> 
> Second, is something that my betas pointed out in this chapter. Namely, they were confused as to what Litha was. I did rewrite it a bit to hopefully make things a bit clearer, but for those who aren’t aware, Litha is the pagan holiday celebrating the Summer Solstice, in much the same way that Yule celebrates the Winter Solstice. This would typically fall around the 21st of June, though it can vary by a day or two in either direction depending on the year.
> 
> Until next time.


	3. Green Pastures

Albus Dumbledore was in something of a tizzy. He hadn’t discovered that Harry had disappeared from Privet Drive until nearly two weeks after the boy had vanished. According to Arabella Figg, it wasn’t that unusual for his Aunt and Uncle to lock him indoors for days at a time when they were angry with him, so she hadn’t thought anything of it at first. However, as time had stretched on she had grown concerned, and after two weeks of seeing no sign of Harry, she had finally contacted Albus.

He had questioned Petunia and Vernon about it, of course, but they hadn’t known anything, even if they seemed far too happy with the result. Their son, Dudley, finally let something slip, and upon checking the boy’s memories, Albus had determined that, at the very least, it was likely that Harry’s disappearance had been an accident and not kidnapping.

The problem was, it had been three weeks since then, and he still couldn’t find the boy! The tracking charms he had tied to the boy’s blood seemed unsure of what direction he had gone and constantly changed to show a new direction with each passing moment. That the charms still worked at all meant that the boy was still alive, at least, but he couldn’t imagine what sort of magic would cause this sort of reaction. If Harry were under the Fidelius, the charms would simply spin while they searched for him before ultimately failing. Instead, they were acting as if Harry were both everywhere and nowhere at the same time, constantly moving large distances.

Albus groaned softly. He’d made finding Harry his priority, but they were quickly moving into July and he still hadn’t found a new Professor to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for this year. Perhaps he should pass the applications on to Minerva. Though, come to think of it, Quirinus should be coming back from his sabbatical this year and had expressed an interest in the position. He would let Minerva know to speak with him. For now however, the situation with Harry took place over all else --

The pin that had been racing it’s way across the various maps he’d set up on a table to the side of his desk (and sometimes off of the table entirely) suddenly came to a stop on a map of downtown London. He drew in a sharp breath. Had Harry found his way into Diagon Alley somehow? If so, then all manner of plans would need to be changed when he sent Harry his Hogwarts Letter. Still, this could be salvaged. He would simply go to Diagon Alley and find Harry. Now that the tracking charms were working again, he wouldn’t need to worry so much. He smiled to himself, feeling satisfied for a brief moment.

Then, a silvery instrument on the shelf behind him suddenly cracked and shattered, and the pin that had been tracking Harry’s movement fell lifeless upon the map.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Harry gave a loud whoop as he soared through the air, twisting about before diving back down. He grinned at Blaise and lifted his hand to high-five the dark-skinned boy as they passed each other. Blaise let out a laugh and turned to follow him, shouting out, “I can’t believe you’ve never ridden a broom before!”

“Me neither! This is great!” Harry grinned and rose straight up for a moment before letting his broom lose momentum and gravity to take control. He fell back towards the ground, hurtling through the air in a way that surpassed even his earlier rides on the carts at Gringotts, before pulling up at the last moment. He flew past Daphne, who had been watching from the ground with a slightly worried and mostly disapproving expression on her face, before moving up again to rejoin Blaise in the air. 

“Merlin, you’re a natural on that thing. You’ll be on the school Quidditch team for certain, Harry. Why doesn’t your family have any brooms though?”

Harry shrugged slightly, his mind racing to find a suitable lie. “Oh, Emrys said something about the enchantments around our house messing with the spells that control most broomsticks, I think. It’s probably just that he’s such a shut-in that he doesn’t care about flying though.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow and Harry knew he must have made some sort of mistake. Zabini had a tendency to be strangely insightful at times, often pulling information from even minor details that Harry had let slip. Working to stay one step ahead of him was a challenge unto itself. Whatever mistake Harry had made this time though, Blaise didn’t comment on it and instead said, “We’ll have to get you a broom of your own sometime then. Even if you can’t fly it at home, I’m sure the Greengrasses won’t mind you flying it at their place.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” Harry jerked his head towards their observer. “Daphne at least, doesn’t seem to like the idea.”

Blaise maneuvered his broom in close so that he could clasp Harry’s shoulder and whisper conspiratorially. “Look, Daphne’s a girl, Harry. We all know that they’re just weird at the end of the day, and Daphne’s something of a cold fish on top of that. Though, I’m sure you pulling off stunts that make it look like you have a deathwish isn’t helping things either.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Whatever Daphne’s problem was, he doubted it was just because she was a girl. “I’m not that bad about it.”

“Maybe not if you were a professional Quidditch player, Harry. For this being your first time on a broom, you’ll probably end up splattered on the ground if you keep it up with all the stunts. At least, that’s what I would say if you weren’t proving to be so crazy good at it.”

“I guess it’s just my fate to go Pro after Hogwarts, huh? What do you think, do I have it in me to make the Arrows?” 

“Getting awfully cocky after a single flying lesson. Let’s see if you can make the school team before you start talking about the Nationals.”

Harry grinned and let his gaze move back to Daphne, only to pause when he noticed that Blaise’s mother had joined her. “Looks like we’re expected back down there.”

“Race you down? Last one there owes the other a galleon?”

“Hey, if you want to lose a galleon so badly, who am I to turn you down?”

Blaise laughed and suddenly shot off without any warning, Harry quick on his heels. In the end, Harry managed to just barely bypass Blaise, but was thrown from his broom and went rolling across the grass as he came to a sudden stop in front of Miss Zabini. He picked himself up with a laugh and called out, “You owe me a galleon!”

“Are you _trying_ to kill yourself?!” Daphne stomped over to him even as Blaise was apprehended by his mother for his own scolding. “Really, I can’t imagine what got into that fool head of yours, Hadrian.”

He blinked. That was the first time she’d referred to him as Hadrian since the party. “It was just a bit of fun, Daphne, really. Look, I’m fine, aren’t I?” He schooled his face into the second smile that Emrys had taught him to use, the one when someone was angry with him. The first had been when he wanted someone to kiss him, but he hadn’t bothered spending much time trying to learn that one. 

Daphne’s features softened for a brief moment, before she suddenly launched a jab at his arm. “See that it stays that way! Honestly!”

“Ow!” He winced, certain that his arm was going to bruise from that. And obviously his smile hadn’t done the job if he was still getting hit, so he would clearly need to practice that more. “You could hold back a little, you know?”

Daphne huffed. “If you can handle a tumble from a broom, I’m sure you’re fine. Now, come on. You’ve been up there all afternoon and Mom wanted us back before dinner.”

Harry replied in exasperation, “Yes, yes.” 

“One yes is enough,” she snapped back. Honestly, Blaise had called Daphne a ‘cold fish,’ but Harry wasn’t sure where the other boy had gotten that impression. Daphne was almost never cold. Irritable or angry, yes, but rarely cold. If anything, she burned rather hot beneath the surface, her passions leading her more often than anything else. Well, it was true that she tried to hide that side of herself, he supposed. 

Daphne shook her head after a moment and led Harry back towards the Zabini’s, where Harry gave Blaise’s mom another smile. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Zabini. It’s been great being here.”

“Of course, Harry. You’re welcome here any time. It’s nice to see Blaise getting along so well with someone his age. I suppose you’ll be flooing out?”

Harry nodded in response and waited until both girls had turned to nudge Blaise into slipping him his galleon. He leaned in to murmur, “Hey, maybe you’ll manage it next time,” and received an elbow to his ribs for his trouble. That only widened his smirk, of course. 

With that, the group made their way through the Zabini estate. The place was relatively small by the standards of most purebloods, but apparently Mirabella Zabini was from an offshoot of the main Zabini line, which kept a much larger house on the continent. It was also unusual for the several rooms where magic wasn’t allowed, as Mirabella apparently had a fondness for Muggle technology. Unlike most Purebloods, Blaise had grown up with movies and television as a normal thing.

In any case, the group found their way to the Zabini entry hall, Harry and Daphne said their goodbyes, and with a flash of emerald light they returned to the Elysium, the somewhat extravagantly named Greengrass estate. Harry, of course, had barely made it two steps out of the fireplace before a blonde missile plunged into his stomach. He went down in a heap and a laughing Astoria straddled herself on top of him. 

She cried out, “Welcome back, Harry!” only to be dragged off of him by Daphne a moment later. 

“What, no greetings for your dear sister?”

Astoria just stuck her tongue out at Daphne and said, “No. Greeting Harry is more important,” before rushing behind Harry even as he picked himself off the ground. The two girls began circling him, Daphne trying to get to Astoria, while Astoria used him as a shield from Daphne, in a game that he knew would result in him being the only loser.

Honestly, Astoria had been his biggest surprise since coming to the Greengrass house. She’d opened up from the shy girl he’d met when arrived the first night, and now he was hardly sure whether she was actually Daphne’s little sister or his. Daphne, of course, didn’t seem to appreciate having her sister taken away and grew even more irritable than usual every time Astoria monopolized his attention. 

Speaking of Daphne, she was starting to outright growl in her attempts to get at Astoria, so he had better move or else he really would become their next casualty. He waited for a break in the two girls’ movement to leap out from between them. Daphne’s eyes lit up in victory, while Astoria screamed before tearing off down the hallway, laughing all the way as she raced towards her room, Daphne close on her heels.

“Really, you shouldn’t encourage them like that.”

Harry turned at the new voice and smiled up at Roxanne Greengrass. “Encourage? Me? Never, Lady Greengrass. I am the soul of propriety.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are, when no one else is watching.” Roxanne gave him a small smile in response before asking, “I hope you had a good time with Blaise, at least?”

“It was a blast.” He grinned and ran a hand through his wind-swept hair.

“Well, go ahead and wash up. Dinner should be ready in half an hour, and I know Astoria was wanting to play with you afterwards.”

“Well, I can hardly let her down, can I?”

Harry smiled and left for his room, wishing that these days never had to end.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

July wore on, yet Albus Dumbledore felt no closer to having discovered Harry Potter’s location than he had two months prior.

Oh, he had certainly followed up on the one hint he had gotten and checked Diagon Alley thoroughly. The goblins were singularly unhelpful, of course, but he had expected that. Goblins took the privacy of their customers very seriously. The problem was that no one else he spoke to reported a boy matching Harry’s description either. He’d even spoken to Ollivander on the off-chance that Harry had gone to buy his wand, only to be told that ‘no wand in the shop had chosen Harry Potter yet.’

Even worse was the rumors he’d heard coming from Albania. It seemed Tom was growing impatient, and impatient Dark Lords were good for no one. He would have to find a distraction of sufficient worth to Tom, something to keep him so focused that he would abandon any other plans he might have. That was inherently dangerous however. After all, the only thing that could lure Tom at this point was a way to restore his body and power or a method to have revenge on one of his foes, and he was canny enough to sniff out if Albus prepared a fake. No, whatever Albus decided upon would need to have a real chance of reviving Tom, which necessitated building protections strong enough to stop Tom, while still being weak enough to allow the slain Dark Lord to believe that he could defeat them and pass through.

Three months ago he might have went to his friend, Nicholas, and asked to borrow the Philosopher’s Stone that he kept, confident in his ability to confound Tom. It would have doubled as a way to see how Harry would react when thrown into a perilous situation. Now however, he had lost Harry and couldn’t even be sure the child would receive his letter to appear this September. He wouldn’t stop trying, of course, but he couldn’t risk something as precious as the Philosopher’s Stone when his defenses around Harry had already proved inadequate.

Albus Dumbledore sighed softly and rubbed his temples. He would have to hope that the Book of Names that acted as registry and an automated system for contacting the student body, including their acceptance letters, would fare better than he at finding Harry. For now, he ignored a letter inviting him to the Greengrasses’ latest ball, and instead began to pen a letter to another old friend of his.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Harry let out a vexed sound as he tried to comb his hair flat, only for it to resist his attempts yet again.

Tonight wasn’t a celebration for any particular holiday, as the one at the Malfoys’ had been, but the Greengrasses were well known socialites and had decided to host this ball. This, of course, meant that as part of the hosting party, he was to stay with Daphne and help receive any guests who arrived. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it, really. On the one hand, it meant that he wouldn’t get to see much of his second ball. On the other hand, it meant that the Greengrasses were treating him as part of their family for the evening and not just a guest that happened to be staying with them, and that fact outweighed any complaint he might have. 

Still, even for the Greengrasses, it was apparently unusual to host a ball on its own with no associated holiday or event, especially so soon after another one. Wizarding society was small enough that there tended to be a polite shuffle of who was hosting what at any time during the year, and you didn’t often see competing events, with only the occasional charity gala or Ministry hosted event thrown in. Apparently the Greengrasses usually preferred to take the Spring Equinox when they were hosting, so he was curious what had changed this year. 

Harry glared at his reflection, ignoring the mirror’s pithy comments about how ‘he would scare off the guests looking like that,’ and it ‘wouldn’t be surprised if he found twigs with that sort of birds’ nest for hair,’ when a blonde head popped in the doorway behind him. “Harry, people should start arriving soon. Are you still not ready?”

He jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion and turned to glare at the offending trespasser. “Merlin, Daphne, you could knock at least. What if I was still getting changed?”

The girl snorted softly. “No one takes that long to get changed, Harry. Now stop worrying about your hair and get out here. The slightly mussed look suits you anyways.”

Harry frowned and gave one last swipe to his hair before following Daphne out to the main hall. “I just… don’t want how I look to reflect badly on your family, Daphne.”

“I know, Harry. Just trust me when I say that you look fine.” She gave him a small smile, before furrowing her brow and reaching up to swipe his hair back to how it had been just a moment ago. “Nevermind, now you look fine.”

“Good thing I have you here to look after me.” Harry smirked, but let his attention wander to the clock. He really had been pushing things, the first guests ought to be arriving any minute now. As though summoned by his thoughts, the fireplace flared viridian and Blaise and his mother stepped out a moment later.

“Harry! Daphne! We’re not late are we?”

“Early if anything. You can leave and come back in a few minutes, you know?”

Blaise laughed in reply and slapped at Harry’s arm. “But then who would keep your guests company? You need someone with personality at this sort of party.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I trust you know the house well enough by now to see yourself to the ballroom?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll have things handled.” He grinned and sauntered off. Harry let out an exasperated sigh, but couldn’t help but smile. Blaise really did like to play the ham when given the opportunity. Blaise’s mother finished talking with Daphne and flashed Harry a smile, before heading off to corral her son.

“I’m starting to think it was a terrible mistake introducing the two of you.” 

Harry tilted his head in response to Daphne’s sarcastic tone. “You’re only just now starting to think that?”

“Yes, I suppose I’m normally far too indulgent with your antics. Perhaps I should reign you in more often?”

Harry raised his hands in mock surrender. “Peace! I’m pretty sure I still have bruises from the last time you ‘reigned me in.’ Have some mercy, Daphne.”

Daphne simply sniffed in outrage, though the smile playing about her lips gave it away for the lie it was. “I shall have mercy when your behavior changes to reflect your contrition.”

“I might well be doomed then.” 

Their conversation took a brief lull, though it was soon interrupted by the floo flaring up once again. This time, it was the Malfoys who stepped out. Lucius and Narcissa quickly said their hellos and moved on to the ballroom, but Harry furrowed his brow in confusion when Draco stayed behind. The pale boy spoke up, “Harry. Daphne. I trust you’ve both been well?”

“Well enough, Draco. Were you not heading in to the party?” Harry asked politely.

“In a moment, certainly. First, I wished to extend an invitation for you to visit the Malfoy estate. I know you’ve made friends with Zabini, and while there’s nothing wrong with him per se, I think you will find that there is no better friend to have than a Malfoy.” 

The blond boy extended his hand and Harry exchanged a look with Daphne before reaching out to take it. “Alright Draco, we’ll plan a time to get together then.”

Draco nodded tightly, though his eyes had brightened up. Maybe he didn’t have many actual friends, or he had something to get out of this, Harry wasn’t sure. Either way Draco simply replied, “Then let me know when works best for you. I’ll see both of you in the party proper.”

Daphne watched until he had left to shake her head and comment, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Draco offer to be friends with someone before. Usually he’s the sort to think everyone should be offering to be friends with him instead.”

“I suppose there’s a first time for everything, though I wouldn’t have thought I had made enough waves to draw his interest.”

Daphne shrugged. “Who knows how he thinks?”

Harry hummed in agreement before asking, “So is anyone else I know supposed to show tonight?”

“Well, Draco’s here, so Pansy is almost certain to show as well. I know Theodore is coming too. Unfortunately, Tracey and her family apparently had some emergency, and the Abbotts and Longbottoms both said they wouldn’t be able to come. So as far as people worth talking to go, probably just Susan.

“I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever meet this mysterious friend of yours.”

“Her family likes to keep her busy and I’ve obviously been distracted watching after you all the time. Although, I’m not sure the two of you meeting is necessarily a good thing. She’s sure to corrupt you and drag you into whatever her latest nonsense is.”

“Her latest nonsense?”

“You will find out when you meet her, I’m sure. She’s always going on about whatever latest Muggle craze she’s encountered. The last time I visited her house she nearly blew my ears out with that trash that she calls music.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure she wasn’t just having a laugh at your expense?”

“Oh, quite sure. Remind me to tell you sometime about when she sent a pair of what she called ‘parachute pants’ to Draco for his birthday.”

“Does Draco even know what a parachute is?”

Daphne’s head jerked up in response. “You mean it’s not just some made up word?”

Harry gaped for a moment, not sure how to answer. Fortunately, he was saved from having to, as the fire blazed green once again. The brief lull that the two had enjoyed came to an end as the bulk of the adult guests began to arrive.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Albus Dumbledore watched as the entire flock of school owls flew away.

Minerva had brought him had brought him this year’s list of required materials earlier this morning and he’d committed it to the Book of Names, watching as the elegant piece of magic made copies addressed to each student and sent each copy flying up to the owlery to be taken to their recipient. He had, of course, intercepted Harry’s letter before it could be sent off. He had been relieved to see that the Book had properly written a letter for Harry, the only problem was the address that it had written.

 _Mr. H Potter_  
_The Seventh Room_  
_The Tower_  
_The End of the World_

Albus turned the letter over in his hands, as though looking at it from another angle could offer up new answers. The Tower at the End of the World? What could _that_ possibly mean? 

He hesitated before finally placing another tracking charm on the letter and sending it off with an owl. As he watched the the owl fly away, he hoped to himself that the owl would be able to find such a vague address. Then, before it had even left the Hogwarts grounds, the owl vanished entirely, along with his tracking charm. A moment later it reappeared and winged its way back to the school, the letter it had been delivering gone.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Harry cut through his pancakes, a small smile on his face as he watched Astoria. The younger girl had something of a sweet tooth when it came to breakfast, and was busy spreading large amounts of what she believed to be her favorite raspberry jam across her pancakes. Unfortunately for her, Harry was having a bit of revenge for the previous night, when she had decided to slip an Ever-Cold Ice Cube into his pyjamas. A moment later, Astoria bit into her pancake, only for her to face to turn sour as she found not raspberry, but instead tasted a concoction of as many red-colored Bertie Bott’s Every Flavoured Beans that Harry could find. He thought most of them were chili flavored, but Harry had learned that you could never tell for sure without actually eating them.

She glared across the table, quickly realizing the source of her suffering, and shrieked, “HARRY--!” Harry simply grinned and took another bite of his breakfast, watching as Astoria suddenly cut herself off, rage suddenly exchanged for mortification as the Belch Powder kicked in. She slapped her hands over her mouth and fled the room as the first loud burp tore itself out of her.

Harry took another self-satisfied bite, only to wilt as he saw Roxanne’s disapproving frown. “That was rather mean-spirited, Harry.”

He squirmed in his seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “It was only a joke, Miss Greengrass.”

Roxanne’s lips thinned for a moment, obviously displeased with his answer. “That excuse is not sufficient. A joke does not need to humiliate the other person. So long as you are staying with us, Harry, I expect you to recognize when something is wrong and act accordingly. I don’t want to see something like that happen again. Do you understand?”

Harry swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat and nodded miserably. Roxanne watched him for a moment before finally nodding to herself, and Harry was left poking dejectedly at his food. The quiet at the table only left him feeling more awkward. Cyrus usually left for his work early enough that the rest of the family missed him in the mornings, and Daphne always seemed to come down late, always careful to make sure her hair and beauty products were in place for the day. The only people he regularly saw for breakfast were Roxanne and Astoria and he’d just drven one of them away.

Breakfast went that way for a few more minutes before an owl arrived. It stopped in front of Roxanne and hooted softly before offering it’s leg up. Roxanne smiled, took the letter, and gave the owl a sausage link from her plate before looking it over. After a moment she called out, “Mipsy!”

True to form, an elf appeared a moment later with a small pop. “Yes, what can Mipsy be doing for Mistress?”

“Please fetch Daphne. Let her know her Hogwarts Letter has arrived.”

“Yes, Mistress!” 

The elf disappeared once again and Daphne came rushing out a moment later, her hair only half-done, as she shouted excitedly, “It’s here then?! Let me see!”

Roxanne smiled indulgently and passed the letter to her daughter who tore the envelope open to start reading. “I suppose once Harry’s letter gets here we’ll have to plan a trip out to Diagon Alley for the two of you then.”

Harry plastered a smile on his face, trying to seem excited for both himself and Daphne, but he couldn’t help but feel a pit forming in his stomach. Who would his letter be addressed to when it arrived? Harry Wyllt or Harry Potter? Would the Greengrasses find out that he had been lying to them this whole time?

Fortunately, he was distracted from his thoughts as a chime ran through the house, the wards letting the inhabitants know that a visitor had arrived. Roxanne rose to greet their guest and returned a few minutes later with Emrys in tow. 

“Hey, guess what I’ve got!” Emrys began waving a letter through the air, only to stop as Harry dove into him and wrapped his arms around the wizard. Emrys’ face softened for a moment and he ran a hand gently over the top of Harry’s head. “I think Harry and I could use a walk around the grounds, Roxanne, if you don’t mind.”

The Lady Greengrass gave her acceptance, of course, and Harry soon found himself wandering the vast fields that made up the Greengrass property. The pair walked silently for awhile before Emrys finally glanced down at him. “So? What’s bothering you, Harry? It’s not like this is the first time I’ve visited since you’ve come here, and you’ve never reacted that strongly before.”

“I--” He hesitated, wondering what exactly was bothering him. It wasn’t that he was lying to the Greengrasses, or rather, it wasn’t only that. It was true that Emrys visited every few days, and while Harry was always happy to see the man, he’d never felt in need of comforting like he had today. His gaze drifted to the letter in Emrys’ hand. “Do I have to go to Hogwarts?”

Emrys’ eyebrows shot up. “What brought this on, Harry?”

“Just… No one ever liked Harry Potter. Now I’m Harry Wyllt and I have all these friends. Even though I’m only staying with them, the Greengrasses treat me like I’m part of their family. But when I go to Hogwarts, everyone is going to find that I lied about who I am. No one will want to spend time with me then. I’ll be back to being Harry Potter.”

Emrys closed his eyes for a moment before kneeling in front of Harry and placing his hands upon the boy’s shoulders. “Listen, Harry. You are who you are no matter what name you wear. Those friends you made, decided to be friends with you regardless of what your last name happens to be. I’m not saying they won’t be angry at all when they find out, but they will forgive you and they will stick by you in the end. Of that, I am certain. Those that don’t were not truly your friends to begin with.”

Harry nodded quietly, his vision blurring for a moment.

“Now, if you would rather go to Hogwarts as Harry Wyllt instead of as Harry Potter, I can arrange for that. However, I’m certain others will find out the truth eventually, no matter how well you hide it. The only question is if you want to let them know now on your terms, or later when you can’t control things.”

Harry took a deep breath, trying to still the nervous trembling in his body. “I can choose who I want to be?”

“You can.”

“Do I have to choose right now?”

“Not at all. Take some time to think it over, Harry.”

Harry swallowed, slipping down to sit on the ground as his tension suddenly eased. He let out a slow breath and gave Emrys a small smile before asking, “Can I keep my hair white like yours whichever name I choose?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again, everyone. Welcome to this strange hint corner. I’ll be taking time to address a few things that came up both in the reviews for last chapter.
> 
> To those mentioning harems and such, please keep in mind that these children are still eleven. Harry hasn’t even really started noticing girls yet, himself. No relationships are going to spring up overnight. That said, Harry is a cute, somewhat exotic boy that no one’s seen before, who was taught how to interact with people by a half-incubus. It’s to be expected that girls are likely to form crushes on him. Just keep in mind that a crush is not a relationship.
> 
> Now, there was a Guest reviewer who I wanted to address, but unfortunately can only refer to their review. First, thank you for pointing out my misspelling of Zabini’s name. It has since been fixed. Second, I don’t think Harry really knows enough about Artoria to dig into her past. He doesn’t know her name or how she came to be there, or even that the Tower is in Avalon. Even if he had a reason to associate it, King Arthur is still known as a man mythologically, so he has no reason to think it’s the same person. Now the use of names like ‘Emrys’ and ‘Wyllt’ are rather indicative, but they require a bit more than surface knowledge of Arthurian myth to know about, and Harry has no reason to look in that direction.
> 
> Anyways, I hope everyone enjoyed yourselves and I’ll see you next time.


	4. Hogwarts Express

Harry looked up at the scarlet steam engine, a sense of trepidation coming over him. This was the train that would take him to Hogwarts. 

“Getting nervous, Harry?” Daphne smiled at him before walking past. Her tone was gentle enough, but there was something slightly ill-natured about her grin, as though she were secretly laughing at him. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll wind up together at Hogwarts. I’m going to see if I can find Tracey though, so be a dear and save us a compartment.”

“It’s not like I was worried about that anyways,” Harry mumbled the complaint to Daphne’s retreating back. He didn’t put much stock in the supposed House Rivalries. Really, why should you shun someone just because they were sorted into a different House than yours anyways? 

A sudden impact struck his back and he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He gave wry smile as he turned and looked down to see Astoria clinging to him. A little bit behind her stood her parents and off in the distance. Emrys too had come to see him off, though the wizard had apparently been distracted by a pretty-looking witch. “Hey Astoria, don’t give your Mum too much trouble while I’m gone, alright?”

He’d expected the younger girl to agree, but she managed to surprise him as she shook her head and instead pulled him in close to whisper, “Take me with you! I can sneak into your luggage!”

“And give your parents a heart attack in the process, I’m sure.” Harry let out a small laugh. “Besides, even if we did sneak you into Hogwarts, they would just send you home once you got there.”

Astoria pouted in response. “Then I’d just have to keep hiding the whole year! What else am I supposed to do all year with both you and Daphne gone?”

“Oh, come on, I haven’t even been staying with you that long, Astoria. Besides, weren’t you friends with Fiona? Why don’t you spend some time with her?”

“Fiona’s been a twit lately,” Astoria sniffed, “I don’t want to hang out with her.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what, I’ll be sure to write to you every week. That way, you’ll have something to do, since you’ll have to write me back.”

Astoria narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Harry smiled and ruffled her hair before extracting himself from her hug. 

He stepped away, moving to board the train, when Emrys suddenly appeared at his side. The wizard glanced over at him and asked, “Are you ready then?”

Harry hesitated a moment before finally nodding, “Yeah. I’m ready.”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

The month of August had proven somewhat hectic even by the standards of everything Harry had done in July.

First was the trip to Diagon Alley, and while Harry already had his trunk and his wand, he still needed to get his school robes fitted, his potions supplies filled, and the books required for Hogwarts purchased. That wasn’t even counting the Greengrasses who had yet to do any of the school year shopping for Daphne or how Daphne wanted a new owl for herself. 

More than anything, he was surprised at the crowd. The last time he’d been at Diagon Alley had been before the school rush. While the street had been busy then, it was positively empty compared to how packed the place was now. He felt he could barely move five feet without jostling into someone else. He supposed he would have expected the rush, had the Greengrasses decided to do their shopping on the day the letters had arrived, but this was nearly a week later.

Needless to say, it seemed like the Greengrasses weren’t the only ones who delayed their shopping trip. Over the course of the trip they ran into both Susan and Blaise who decided to join them. To their dismay however, Draco also made an appearance at Madam Malkin’s. Fortunately, Harry only had to put up listening to Draco talk about how he ‘clearly ought to be allowed onto the House Quidditch Team, despite being a First Year, as it would simply be a crime if he wasn’t,’ for the length of Draco’s fitting, as the boy left to continue shopping with his parents once he had made his purchase.

Unfortunately, Harry still had to see Draco again a few days later, as they had scheduled his visit to the Malfoy estate for that weekend. Predictably, Draco had spent most of the time trying to impress Harry with just how important his father was. Oh, it was nothing too overt, Harry supposed, but it was still rather blatant. For example, when Draco was giving him a tour of the estate, the boy slipped in small mentions of the people his father knew: “Here is the study, Father often hosts Minister Fudge and his other friends here,” or, “Here is the library, most of the books are quite rare, Father had to speak with some of his contacts in the Ministry just to get them imported,” and so on and so forth. 

Harry kept a polite smile on his face through it all, though he was rather happy once Draco showed him out to the Quidditch pitch and they hopped on brooms for awhile. They didn’t put any balls in play of course, not for just the two of them. However, Harry still had fun simply racing brooms about, and Draco even seemed like less of a pompous windbag once they were up in the air, though that could be simply due to not having the chance to talk quite as much. 

In the end, while the visit wasn’t completely unpleasant, Harry was rather happy when the time came to say his goodbyes. He still wasn’t sure what had prompted the Malfoy Scion to invite him, but he supposed that it didn’t hurt to be on friendly terms with the boy. 

The real highlights of the month however, were the times that Emrys came to visit. He never stayed more than a single night at a time, whatever magic he was using to project himself from his tower didn’t allow him to stay for that long, but he still stopped by often enough and they would spend what time they had talking. Usually it was just about random things, whatever happened to strike Emrys’ fancy at that particular moment, but occasionally Harry managed to nag Emrys into giving him a lesson in magic as well. The problem was, the lessons in magic still didn’t involve any actual spellcasting, even though Harry had his wand now. 

“Meditation? Really?” Harry asked skeptically during one such lesson. He raised an eyebrow, watching to see how serious Emrys actually was about the idea.

Emrys simply waved his hand from the position he’d taken lying across the full length of the sofa. “Yes, really, Harry. Listen, you know part of magic is lying to the World. So what qualities make for the best liars?”

Furrowing his brow, Harry answered, “I guess it would be people who can keep a straight face even while lying.”

“Bzzt. Wrong.” Emrys popped a Bertie Bott’s bean into his mouth before continuing to talk, still chewing between words. “The best liars are people who represent a piece of fiction so thoroughly, that they themselves come to believe it. To them, they aren’t lying, they are completely convinced that what they are saying is the truth.”

Harry scratched at his head for a moment before asking, “So you’re saying that the best wizards are really stupid?”

“Hah!” Emrys let out a loud laugh before tossing a bean at Harry’s forehead. Harry dodged back and caught in his mouth instead, only to gag as his mouth was suddenly flooded with the taste of soap. “I suppose you aren’t wrong, Harry. Blind conviction is powerful, and I think you’ll find a lot of powerful wizards are so caught up in their belief systems that they have trouble considering other points of view.”

“Uh huh. So how does meditation play into that?”

“Well, it’s simple. You can’t naturally believe whatever you need to all the time. You’re carrying too many assumptions up here.” Emrys poked lightly at Harry’s head. “That’s true for any human, no matter how stupid they happen to be. We all have things that we naturally believe in. For example, if I were to throw this bag of beans across the room, what would happen?”

“I suppose it would fly across the room and hit the ground over there.”

“Well, why is that?”

“Er… Well, gravity would eventually cause it to hit the ground I guess.”

Emrys nodded. “Alright, let’s test your theory.” The wizard threw the bag -- only for it to stop mid-air not a foot away from him. “Alright, so you were wrong. The bag didn’t hit the floor. Why?”

Harry blinked. “Well, I guess you used magic to stop it.”

“Did I? Maybe gravity simply does not work on bags of Every-Flavored Beans?”

“But I’ve seen plenty of Bertie Bott’s bags that fell perfectly normal!”

“Then maybe it’s just this specific bag. Or perhaps your assumptions about gravity were wrong, and simply because you’ve seen that bags of Bertie Bott’s fall to the ground ninety-nine percent of the time, you assumed that they would continue to fall every time when that isn’t the case.” Emrys grinned before swiping the bag out of the air and popping another bean into his mouth. “Let me be clear, Harry. If you truly believe in your heart of hearts that nothing you can do would stop this bag from falling, then it doesn’t matter how much magic you have at your disposal. You have to truly believe in what you’re doing. That means meditation: to erase yourself and your preconceived notions, to clear your mind and focus only on obtaining the result that you desire.”

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair before falling back to sit cross-legged on the floor. “Alright, so how do I do this meditation stuff?” 

He had a feeling that this whole exercise would be a mistake when Emrys’ eyes twinkled in response. Several hours later, with a sore back and sore bum and no sign of a ‘clear mind,’ he decided that his initial impression was correct. It was made worse when Emrys’ assigned more meditation to him as homework, something that he was to do every day without fail. 

The rest of August largely continued on in that manner, spending time with Blaise, Daphne, or Astoria between lessons with Emrys. Astoria in particular apparently enjoyed the “Boy-Who-Lived” books and enjoyed setting Harry up to roleplay as, well, himself ironically, while she would be the Princess he would have to rescue. On occasion Daphne would get recruited to play as well, though Astoria liked to cast her sister as the Evil Witch of whatever story they happened to be enacting. 

Eventually however, the month came to an end, and Harry found himself on Platform 9 ¾ looking up at the scarlet steam engine.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Harry dodged past a group of kids running onto the train and passed by another group surrounding a boy with dreadlocks. He couldn’t help but stop for a moment though as a gasp came from the group and a long, hairy leg poked its way out of the box that the boy was carrying. Harry stared for a moment before shaking his head. No getting distracted. He had to keep moving or there would be no chance of grabbing an empty compartment.

He finished pushing his way through the crowds and hauled his trunk up onto the train, making his way towards the back to find an empty compartment. It turned out that even with the trunk enchanted to be feather-light, it was still large enough to make it awkward pushing it up onto the luggage rack, especially as Harry was a bit on the short side and had to stand on his tiptoes and stretch out to nudge it the rest of the way before securing it. It wasn’t until after he had tied the trunk down that he realized he could have tried using a levitating spell on it. He grumbled to himself before taking out a book and falling into a seat, settling in to wait for Daphne.

Harry glanced out the window, idly noting a large family of redheads that were bustling around the station, only to jump when someone suddenly knocked on the door. He called for them to come in, and a moment later, a pudgy face poked its way inside. “Um, is this compartment open? The train’s already starting to get pretty full.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I have another friend or two who should be coming, but we should have plenty of space. Here, let me give you a hand with your trunk.” Harry smiled lightly and stood up, reaching out to shake the boy’s hand. “I’m Harry, by the way, who are you?”

The boy smiled in return as he took Harry’s hand, though he turned a bit wide-eyed when Harry levitated his trunk up to the rack a moment later. Harry had learned his lesson with his own trunk, no need to repeat the mistake. “I’m, ah, Neville. Neville Longbottom. Good to meet you, Harry.” He glanced up to his trunk before asking, “So are you a second year, Harry?”

“Nah, first year. Same as you, I’d imagine.”

“O-Oh. I guess I’m a bit behind if everyone else can already use magic.” Neville slumped into his chair, looking depressed.

“I’m sure you’re fine, Neville. I think most people haven’t used magic before Hogwarts. My guardian’s just been big on teaching me magical theory before sending me off, and that was my first time using that spell anyways.”

Neville nodded slightly and a moment later, a toad hopped out of his pocket, onto his lap, bringing a hesitant smile to the boy’s face. “Oh yeah, this is Trevor.”

“A pleasure to meet you as well, Trevor,” Harry winked.

The toad croaked in response and took the opportunity to leap free of Neville’s hands when the door suddenly banged open and a bushy-haired girl moved into the compartment a moment later. She glanced around, her eyes lighting up for a moment as she spotted the book by Harry’s side, before saying, “Oh good, there’s still space here. Do you mind if I join you?”

Harry darted a hand out to catch Trevor before the toad could get far, before flashing a smile at the girl. “Of course, come on in. I’m Harry and this is Neville. Let me get your trunk for you.”

The girl stared at him for a moment, before finally letting out a breath, some hidden tension in her shoulders escaping. “Thank you.” Then, she continued talking so fast that her words seemed to blend into one another. “Is that one of our textbooks that you’re reading? I’ve read all the course books already of course, I just hope it’ll be enough -- Hogwarts is supposed to be the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard, so I’m sure their standards will be quite high -- Nobody in my family’s magic at all though, so I’m sure I’ll have so much to catch up on -- I’m Hermione Granger by the way.”

“Er.” Harry couldn’t help let out the sound, despite Emrys’ training. He stood there, blinking at Hermione for a moment, his brain trying to catch up with what she had said. “Good to meet you Hermione. Don’t worry about being from a non-magic background. I was just telling Neville here that most kids don’t know magic when they go to Hogwarts thanks to the Restriction on Underage Magic.” He slipped his wand out as he talked, levitating Hermione’s trunk up to join Neville’s.

“Oh! That was magic, wasn’t it! _Wingardium Leviosa!_ I read about it in our Charms books -- Do you know any others yet?”

Harry gave the girl a rueful smile as he tied her luggage down before sitting once more. “A few I suppose. The Wand-Lighting Charm was one of the first ones I learned. Handy to have a light at night and all.”

Hermione actually clapped in response, looking thrilled to have someone else studying ahead in the same compartment as her. Neville just looked like he was trying to shrink into his seat. “So what Houses do you two think you’ll be in? Right now, I’m hoping for Gryffindor -- that’s the House that Dumbledore himself was in according to Hogwarts, A History, and it sounds by far the best. Though Ravenclaw doesn’t sound too bad either.”

Neville finally spoke up in a small voice, “Gran wants me to get into Gryffindor. Says its where my parents were sorted.”

Harry hummed lightly in response. “According to my guardian, you’ll get sorted wherever is best for you. He says all four Houses have good things about them as well as bad. So I wouldn’t worry too much about it or go in with too many preconceived notions. Though, for me, it’ll probably be Ravenclaw.” 

The train gave a sudden lurch and began pulling away from the platform. Harry tried to ignore the small spot of anxiety that formed in his stomach. The train had begun moving and Daphne had yet to show up. She said that she would come sit with him. She wouldn’t abandon him now that she had her other friends to spend time with. He bit down on his lip, glancing out the window for a moment as Hermione burst into another response. “Oh, then maybe we’ll wind up as House Mates. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose it would. Maybe we can--” 

He was interrupted before he could say more as the door slammed open and a brunette girl wearing a woolen cap strolled in and raised her hand in greeting. “Yo! You must be Harry, Daphne’s been telling me all about you!” Daphne stepped in behind the girl, giving an exasperated roll of her eyes.

Harry looked between the two for a moment. “I take it this is Tracey?”

“Right in one.” Tracey winked and flopped down into a seat next to Hermione, leaving Harry to levitate her and Daphne’s luggage. Daphne, on the other hand, quietly thanked Harry and took her seat next to him. 

General introductions went around for the group again and eventually the initial excitement wore down as the journey continued. Tracey decided to introduce Hermione to Exploding Snap, while Daphne talked quietly with Neville. While Daphne and Neville weren’t friends per se, they were acquainted at least from Pureblood circles, even if Harry hadn’t had a chance to meet the boy over the summer. As for Harry, he settled into reading his Arithmancy book.

The subject was rather fascinating, the idea that there were inherent magical qualities to numbers and that through calculation you could better structure spells, or even build entirely new ones. On some level however, he wondered how necessary it actually was. According to Emrys, most of the components of a spell -- things such as the incantation and wand motion -- were fundamentally lies. They existed to help the caster control their mental state, almost as a sort of form of self-hypnosis, a way to make the lie real to the wizard’s mind. Emrys had said it was effective for training, but it wouldn’t get Harry as far as if he learned to meditate and induce that sort of state in himself properly. 

If that was the case however, then were the magical properties of numbers also just a lie? Something wizards had convinced themselves of to make things more effective? How much of what they would be learning at Hogwarts was real and how much was illusion?

Harry was interrupted from his thoughts as the food cart came by. Most everyone got something, except for Hermione, who flushed pink and mumbled about how her parents wouldn’t approve of her eating sweets. Tracey however, wouldn’t stand for this, and eventually convinced Hermione to at least buy a pack of Toothflossing Stringmints for herself. As for Harry, he’d decided to go with the supposedly classic Chocolate Frog, quickly breaking the frog’s legs to keep it from trying to escape.

He looked down at the card he’d received and let out a strangled sound. Daphne looked up in alarm, and he had to quickly motion to her that he was okay. He turned the card over and read:

**MERLIN AMBROSIUS**  
_Merlin is the most famous wizard of all time. He is sometimes known as the Prince of Enchanters and was part of the Court of King Arthur._  
_Merlin is famous for his defeat of the Dark Lady, Morgan le Fey, as well as for his establishment of the Wizengamot._  
_There are some rumors that he was capable of travelling through time or was immortal, as it is claimed that he was a Hogwarts graduate some five-hundred years later._

Looking back at the portrait on the front of the card, Harry scowled at what was indisputably Emrys wearing a very obviously fake beard. The picture winked at him and put a finger up to its mouth, before mouthing the word, “Later,” to Harry. Should he even be surprised at this point? If anyone could manage to make a fake trading card and sneak it into the exact Chocolate Frog that Harry bought, it would probably be Emrys. He sighed and tucked the card into his pocket for the time being.

Glancing out the window, Harry idly watched the scenery go by. The sun was starting to set, painting the Scottish highlands scarlet. It would probably only be another hour or two until they arrived, but perhaps he could get away with a quick nap in the meantime.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

“Harry? Wake up, we’re supposed to be there in a few minutes.”

Harry let out a small groan and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, turning his head to look at the person who had been shaking him awake. “Mm… Good morning, Daphne.”

“It’s dark out, Harry -- hardly morning. Now come on, you still need to get changed into your school robes.” 

He glanced around at the other occupants and noticed that all the others had already changed. Hermione seemed to be practically bouncing with excitement, her face glued to the window now that they were getting closer to Hogwarts. Tracey met his eyes and grinned, woolen cap still on her head despite not being part of the uniform, and answered his unasked question. “We got changed while you were sleeping. Figured you wouldn’t see anything anyways.”

Daphne and Hermione turned pink but Harry simply rolled his eyes. It wasn’t as though he was all that curious to see what they were wearing beneath their robes anyways. “Alright, I’ll go ahead and get changed then. Mind waiting out in the corridor? Unless you plan on watching, anyways.”

Tracey’s grin widened, only for Daphne to smack the back of her head, before ushering her out into the hallway, Hermione following quickly behind. Neville just gave a small shrug from where he was sitting. “Girls, huh?”

“I’ve got a feeling that it’s more just Tracey being Tracey rather than anything to do with her gender.” Harry snorted softly and stood up on his chair to start rooting through his trunk. “I noticed you were talking with Daphne earlier, were the two of you already friends?”

“Um, not really. I mean, we sort of know each other, but not all that well.”

Harry nodded as he pulled his robes on. “Well, I suppose Hogwarts is a good time for making new friends, at least. Shall we let the girls know that it’s safe to enter once more?”

Neville snorted. “Was it actually necessary to throw them out to begin with? You were already wearing the rest of your uniform.”

“Necessary, maybe not, but it was fun seeing their expressions, wasn’t it?”

Neville gave a small smile in response and Harry stuck his head out into the hallway to invite the girls back in. Not that it mattered much, it seemed Daphne had timed her waking of him well, as it was only a few minutes longer before they had arrived at Hogwarts and were disembarking. 

A call of “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” was shouted over the crowd and Harry followed it to find a giant of a man standing there. Neville gave a small squeak and Harry squeezed the boy’s shoulder to reassure him. The giant spoke up again, “Alrigh’, is that everyone? Follow me then.” He led them down a rocky path to the edge of a great black lake, and there on the horizon, was Harry’s first glimpse of Hogwarts. It was a pretty thing, with jutting turrets and sparkling lights, though, even at this distance, he judged that Emrys’ tower was likely taller than the castle. It was a castle though, not a single tower, so he was sure there was plenty of ground there to explore.

He wound his way down to the lakeshore and the giant called out, “No more than four to a boat!” 

The group he had sat with looked between themselves, having one too many. Eventually Hermione mumbled, “I’ll just… I’ll just find another boat then.”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh before shaking his head. “No, don’t worry about it, Hermione. I’ll find another boat. You should stay with everyone else.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide and Tracey butted in, wrapping an arm around Hermione’s shoulders. “Yeah, us girls need to stick together anyways. C’mon, Harry will be fine on his own.”

Harry’s lips thinned. Nice of her to write him off so quickly. Daphne gave him an apologetic look and he simply shrugged in return. It was true though, that he would be fine on his own. He slipped away from the group to find another boat, only to find an arm slipped through his, tugging him towards one. 

He glanced at his abductor and saw it was Susan Bones. She smiled back at him. “Hey there, Harry. Long-time, no see. How’s your summer been?”

“Oh, it’s been quite fun, though, I suppose it was missing cute redheads coming to steal me away.”

“Good thing I’m here to fix that, hm?” She grinned and dragged him into a boat where Hannah and another boy were already sitting. “Let’s see, you already know Hannah, but you probably haven’t met Ernie yet.”

The boy gave a friendly wave. “Hullo there. I’m Ernie Macmillan. And I guess you’re Harry, Susan hasn’t been able to shut up about you since June.”

Susan turned a color to match her hair and Harry gently nudged her with his elbow as the boat began sailing into the lake. “I hadn’t realized I had made such an impression. I do hope it’s all been good things she’s said about me?”

“Oh, nothing too terrible. I’m sure I could try and remember one or two things she’s said --”

“Ernie, you shut up this instant or I’ll kick you off into the lake!” Susan glared. Harry just laughed in response and ducked his head as the boat passed through a tunnel that took them underneath the castle, to where their harbor waited.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

“Abbot, Hannah!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The walk up after their boat ride had been rather amusing, in Harry’s opinion. He’d made it back to his previous group, plus Blaise who he hadn’t seen on the train, where Hermione was beginning to whisper every spell she knew to herself, having apparently overheard a boy talking about how there was some sort of test involved in the Sorting. Harry glanced at Daphne, who gave him a small shrug in response. Great, it was probably tradition not to tell first years what would be involved until the very last moment. 

After that, ghosts had come by, which was mildly interesting in and of itself, though they were quickly shooed away by Professor McGonagall and now Harry was watching students try on a hat.

Susan was quick to follow her friend to Hufflepuff, and a boy Harry didn’t know, Terry Boot, went off to Ravenclaw. After a few more students, Tracey was sent up. She sat up there for nearly a minute, and based on the expression on her face, she was arguing with the hat until it finally sighed and shouted, “SLYTHERIN,” as if in resignation.

Fay Dunbar was next, though Harry largely stopped paying attention, except for when people he knew were called. Hermione went to Ravenclaw and Daphne to Slytherin right after her. The hat seemed to have trouble deciding on Neville, though it eventually called out, “GRYFFINDOR,” for him. Harry swallowed, his throat feeling tight. His name would be called soon enough. He had made his decision on who he wanted to be and it was certainly too late to change his mind now.

He could only hope it would be the right decision.

“Wyllt, Harry!”

Harry thought he saw the Headmaster’s head jerk up, the old man’s gaze sharpening to study him, as his name was called. He supposed it wasn’t that surprising. He was the only Harry in his year after all, and if you were expecting Harry Potter only to find another child with the same name in the same year, anyone would be suspicious. That didn’t matter though. He was Harry Wyllt now. That was the lie he had decided on. A lie that he would tell even to himself. 

He stepped forward and closed his eyes as the hat was put onto his head.

“Hmm, well this is odd, isn’t it,” said a small voice in his ear. “Very strange, Harry… Wyllt?” The voice seemed confused for a moment before finally correcting itself, “No, Harry Potter it seems. A very confusing turn of events. Well, it doesn’t matter much to me. Let’s see here, plenty of courage and not a bad mind. More than that though, there seems to be a nice thirst to prove yourself. You want to learn magic not for the sake of knowledge, but to show you’re worthy of everything you’ve been given, hm?”

Harry bit down on his lip, feeling as though something in chest was being constricted. “I’ll give you a bit of advice as long as I’m here, Harry. Love is not something that is earned and you can never prove yourself worthy of receiving it, for it is something that is only ever given freely. That said, I think it’s clear where you belong -- you will do well in SLYTHERIN!”

Harry nodded jerkily and walked to the Slytherin table once the hat was taken off his head, feeling as though his body was numb. He ignored the applause and sat down next to Daphne, who frowned slightly and leaned over to ask, “What’s wrong, Harry?” He could only shake his head in response, and Blaise joined them a moment later as the final first year to be sorted. 

He supposed that he should have expected the Hat to be able to look at what he was thinking, but having it thrown in his face like that had thrown something off inside of him. Ugh, he couldn’t keep acting like this. He could think it over later. Harry took a deep breath and shoved all of it: the doubt, the worry, and thoughts to the back of his mind, building the lie that was Harry Wyllt back up. Harry Wyllt was a normal, happy child, not someone who would be thrown off balance from a conversation with the Sorting Hat. 

Harry Wyllt plastered a smile onto his face and glanced around at his new housemates, loading up his plate as he listened to Draco loudly decrying how Dumbledore was clearly going senile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and welcome once again to this strange hint corner. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Merlin being a student at Hogwarts is one of the odder points of Harry Potter lore, especially since we know when Hogwarts was founded, or rather how late it was founded by comparison to when things like when King Arthur’s court are usually placed. Most fanfic that I’ve seen addressed it simply separate the two characters -- there was both a Myrddin Emrys who served at King Arthur’s Court and a Merlin Ambrosius who later attended Hogwarts. I’m sure it’s no surprise to most of you readers that they’re actually the same person in this fic due to shenanigans at play.
> 
> As for Harry being a Slytherin, I’m sure quite a few people were surprised by the decision, both in universe and out. My two betas both thought he was going to Ravenclaw. However, the Hat can see deeper than the surface a person presents to the world, and while this Harry is certainly enthusiastic about learning, and would have done well in Ravenclaw, his intrinsic motivations lie elsewhere. Perhaps the lesson to take away is how possibly problematic it is to teach a child that not only is lying okay, but it’s something to excel at doing even with yourself.
> 
> Anyways, I hope all of you enjoyed, and I hope to see you again next time.


	5. Meeting the Headmaster

The rest of the Welcoming Feast had proven rather enjoyable for Harry.  The Slytherin table wasn’t nearly as rambunctious as, say, the Gryffindors, but they still talked a fair bit.  Draco was chatting with a boy named Theodore Nott, who looked less than thrilled to have the blonde boy’s attention, but put up with it with polite disinterest.  A few seats down, a few of the House’s Quidditch players were laughing about how they would take home the Cup again this year unless Wood could pull a competent Seeker out of thin air.  Still, things eventually came to an end and the Headmaster got to his feet once more and touched his wand to his throat.

“A few more words now that we’re all fed and watered.  I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”  The Headmaster directed an indulgent smile towards the Gryffindor table and a pair of red-headed twins, who Harry assumed were the likely cause of this particular announcement, saluted in response. “I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors,” the Headmaster continued, sounding very much as though he did not expect anyone to actually follow that directive.  “Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch.”

“Finally, I must tell you that this year, the lowest level of the dungeons has been sealed off.  Certain renovations are underway and students are not to enter under any circumstances. If you should do so, be warned that you risk more than just your life.”

There was some confused muttering among the students at this final announcement.  One of the older Slytherins muttered something about how Snape must be running some new, volatile experiment down there, while another snorted and said it’s more likely that this year’s Defense teacher had brought a troll to live on the grounds.  The troll would, of course, incapacitate the Defense teacher at some point before the end of the school year. A few of the older students were already setting up bets as to just how Professor Quirrell would lose his job.

However, no other reason was given by Dumbledore, and so one school song later and the students were sent off to their dormitories.  The Slytherin prefects proceeded to lead the first years to their common room in the dungeons, where they made it clear that a certain level of behavior and dignity was expected within their House.  They were to wake up early and be on time for Breakfast each day; they were to keep a level of decorum in the halls, no running about or shouting; and Merlin help them if a Slytherin ever outright failed a class, for their Head of House would ensure that the student in question would gravely regret his lack of studies the following year.  Harry had noticed Draco’s two friends, Crabbe and Goyle he thought, growing especially pale at the third announcement.

Perhaps the most important of the orders given however, was that Slytherins were to close ranks.  If they saw any of their fellow Slytherins in an altercation with someone from outside of their House, then they were to assist the student in question, regardless of what led to the circumstances.  This, of course, did not apply to internal disputes within Slytherin, which were allowed so long as they were kept away from where the other Houses could see.

If he were being honest, Harry thought the whole thing a bit stupid.  The last order in particular, he would probably ignore. He had no desire to help bullies just because they were in his own House, especially since he had friends in the other Houses.  Plus, if he wanted to embarrass someone, then doing it in front of the entire school would be much more effective than if he only did it in front of the other Slytherins.

The dorms themselves were much more to Harry’s liking though.  He smiled in wonder for a moment as he stepped in and saw a large viewing window that stretched around the room, giving a glimpse out into the Black Lake.  He grinned when Blaise came through a moment later and had the same reaction, the dark-skinned boy’s eyes going wide in wonder. The room itself was arranged in a large semi-circle, with beds to either side of the door.  

Harry grinned as he noticed that his luggage was in the left-most bed, next to a wall, and it seemed Blaise had wound up in the bed next to his.  Meanwhile, Theodore wound up in the bed across from Harry’s, and Draco ended up flanked by his two bodyguards (who it turned out were Vince and Greg) and was, appropriately, at the center of the room, or at least as close as it was possible to get with an even number of beds.  Draco still made a fuss about not being at the actual center of the room though, and tried to get Greg to move his bed closer to Blaise to make space, only to find out that the larger boy wasn’t strong enough to even budge the bed out of place. 

A brief round of introductions followed Greg’s attempt to move his bed, but apart from Harry, everyone already knew each other and were more interested in getting sleep, which suited Harry just fine.  Drawing the curtains of his bed closed, he waited another twenty minutes before drawing out the Famous Wizard card he had gotten earlier that day and glared at it. The portrait of Emrys simply raised its hand in mock surrender, before tugging off the beard it had been wearing.  “Why the glare, Harry? I thought you would appreciate a way to keep in contact.”

“It’s not that I don’t, really, but why a Famous Wizard card?  How did you even manage to smuggle it into a Chocolate Frog in the first place?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets, Harry, and neither does a prankster.  As for why, I don’t think anyone would think it strange that you had a few trading cards lying about.  You could keep me in open view and no one would think twice of it without some very close inspection.” Emrys winked and leaned back, the top of his head falling out of the card’s frame and disappearing.  “I’ve got one more gift that I’m working on though, that I’m sure you’ll appreciate.”

“A gift?  What sort of gift?  More books on magic?”

Emrys rolled his eyes.  “Really, with how you are about books, I don’t know how you didn’t end up in Ravenclaw.  No, not books. You’ve got an entire library at that school to look at still. You will see what your present is when it arrives.  In the meantime, why don’t you show me how your meditation is going?”

Harry sighed softly and closed his eyes.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Breakfast was something of a quiet affair, with most of the students still tired from the trip to school the day before .  About halfway through the meal, Professor Snape passed out their schedules and Harry yawned as he looked his over.

“Ugh, Herbology first thing in the morning,” Blaise complained next to him, “We’ve got Charms after that though, so that’ll probably be interesting.”  

“Herbology won’t be so bad, and it’s with Ravenclaw.  Someone I met on the train got sorted there, so it’ll be nice to pair up with her.  At least, assuming Tracey doesn’t beat me to it.”

“Already associating with other Houses, Wyllt?  Surely you can do better than that.” Draco butted his way into the conversation and it was all Harry could do to keep himself from groaning.  Well, it wouldn’t do any good to just tell the prat to shove off. So what was an appropriate lie? Something that could pass as Slytherin?

Harry’s lips curved up into a smirk as he answered, “Oh, you never know when it’ll be helpful to have friends and contacts in other Houses, Draco.  It never hurts to branch out.” A good setup, but now for the finisher, something to keep Malfoy quiet while thinking he won.“Of course, if you would rather rely on me to be your liason to the other Houses whenever there’s a problem, I’m happy to help.”  

Naturally, the implications flew over Draco’s head.  The Malfoy Heir puffed out his chest and said, “Heh, I knew you would come around.  I’m glad to see you’ve realized who’s most important around here, Harry.”

Harry simply nodded with a small smile and turned his attention to Daphne, who was doing an admirable job of pretending to not be half asleep, even though he was pretty sure she was barely aware of anything that was happening around her.  He nudged her with his elbow and watched as it took a full five seconds for her to respond, slowly turning her head to glare at him. He simply grinned back and asked, “Up late, Daphne?”

“Please don’t remind me.”  Daphne sighed softly, in what would probably have been a groan from just about anyone else.  “First Tracey and Lily wouldn’t shut up, trying to make friends with all the girls, then Pansy decided to be a priss, insulting Tracey’s family, and started an argument with her.  Millicent wound up having to hold Tracey down to keep her from outright hitting Pansy, and then, once things had finally calmed down, Lily decided she wanted to get to know me better and started badgering me about what hair product I used.”

Harry did his best to hold back his smile, though he felt it still managed to edge its way through.  “Sorry, slow down. Millicent? Lily?”

“Oh.  Millicent Bulstrode, over there,” she pointed to a girl who looked to be taller than both Vince and Greg, the two tallest boys in their year, “And Lily Moon is over there, chatting up Tracey.”  This time, she pointed towards a pale, raven-haired girl, who was a little on the short side.

Harry hummed lightly as he filed away the information, before asking in a teasing tone, “So what hair product _do_ you use, Daphne.  Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Ugh, you sound like a reporter from Teen Witch Weekly.  It’s Lockhart’s Lustrous Lovely Locks shampoo, if you must know.”

“Isn’t Lockhart that one famous author whose books are all over Flourish and Blotts?  And a bloke besides?”

Daphne sniffed in response.  “Indeed. He is a rather accomplished wizard, whose talents apparently include fantastic hair care.”

Harry chuckled and said, “Well, I can’t say I know much about him, but looking at the results, I suppose it’s true that his hair potions are fantastic.”  He flashed Daphne a smile, ignoring how her sleepiness had apparently kicked in again and left her unable to process what he’d said and snagged a piece of bacon off of her plate, watching idly as owls began to fly in.  

One landed in front of Draco with a large package of chocolates and a letter from his mother.  Draco, of course, refused to let anyone see the letter, but based on how his cheeks heated up, it had been something suitably mushy about how he must be missing his family after a single day away from home.  

Daphne’s owl also made an appearance, along with a letter from her sister.  In the end, Daphne had gotten her way during their trip to Diagon Alley the previous month, and had walked away from Eeylops with a snowy owl that she had named Caelia.  The girl smiled and fed the white feathered bird a strip of bacon before glancing over at Harry and saying, “Astoria’s telling me to remind you that you promised to write her every week, Harry.  I’m to punish you if you don’t.”

“Merlin, it hasn’t even been a day yet -- I pity whoever she goes out with someday.  So, what sort of punishment am I in for if I renege on my deal with her?”

Daphne smiled sunnily and said, “Oh, I’m sure I can think of something.  Don’t break your deal and you won’t have to find out just how creative I can be, Harry.”

Caelia barked her support and Harry was left giving a weak smile in response, trying to ignore the shiver that went down his spine.  “I suppose I had best write something this weekend then.”

“Yes, I suppose you should,” Daphne replied primly, the promise of what would happen if he failed to still in her voice.

“Right.  Well, in the meantime, I should probably head off to Herbology,” Harry said before getting up to leave.  He had hardly taken two steps however, before he was intercepted by Professor Snape.

“Mister Wyllt.  The Headmaster would like you to pay him a visit before you leave for your first class.”

“Am I… in trouble for something, Sir?  Why does the Headmaster want me?”

Professor Snape sneered, though it honestly wasn’t that different from his default expression, and responded, “He did not inform me.  Now follow me and I will show you the way to his office.”

Harry nodded hesitantly and the two left the Great Hall.  He was led to the second floor, walking until they came to a long corridor, which a gargoyle stood watch over at the end.  Professor Snape strode up to the gargoyle and spat out, “Shock-o-Choc!” before turning to leave, evidently eager to be finished with the errand.  He still took a moment to glare down his nose at Harry however. “This little visit to the Headmaster aside, I still expect you to be on time and performing well in your classes, Mister Wyllt.  I have high expectations for my Slytherins and I shall hold you to them.” He left before Harry could answer, his robes billowing out behind him as he strode down the hall.

Harry sighed and looked at the stairs heading up to the Headmaster.  This really wasn’t how he wanted to start his first day at Hogwarts.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Albus Dumbledore peered over the rims of his half-moon spectacles at the boy who had entered his office.  There were far too many things suspicious about him. He knew a letter had been sent out to Harry Potter, yet Harry Potter had not been called for sorting.  Instead, Harry Wyllt was called, a child he was quite certain hadn’t previously been in the Book of Names and hadn’t had a letter sent to him. True, his hair was the wrong color and he lacked the scar, but both things were easy enough to hide if one desired to.  More telling was how the boy’s hair fell in the same sort of bird’s nest that James’ had, and the vivid green eyes that looked so achingly like Lily’s.

No, there was little doubt in Albus’ head as to who Harry Wyllt really was.  Rather, it astounded him that so simple a disguise had apparently fooled everyone the boy had interacted with.  Even Severus hadn’t seemed to notice anything, though Albus couldn’t expect that to last forever. The man was too clever not to eventually piece things together.  No, the question wasn’t the boy’s identity, but rather how he had come by this false one.

Albus closed his eyes for a moment, pondering how to steer the conversation, before giving Harry a grandfatherly smile.  “Harry, come in, take a seat. I hope you enjoyed your first night at Hogwarts?”

“Yeah, it’s been great so far.  Did you need me for something though, Sir?”

“I find myself in need of a conversation partner, Harry.  I had a thought that I wished to work out. Tell me, have you ever heard of a Masquerade?”

“It’s a type of Ball, right?  Tends to be more popular around Halloween.”

“True enough, though those details fail to really capture the concept.  You see, Harry, at a Masquerade, the participants often wear masks and pretend to be someone or something else.  These attempts are often thin, something easily seen through. After all, it matters not whether you are wearing a mask if you are the only white-haired boy in attendance, as an example.  However, it is more in the spirit of the thing, a way to capture a sense of intrigue.”

“Sir?” the boy asked, clearly confused as to where he was leading the conversation.

“Masks can be useful for many reasons, Harry, not just concealing your identity.  However, there are times when it is also necessary to remove the mask. So, if you do not mind, I would ask that you take off your mask for me, Mister Potter.”

The boy froze in his seat at the question, a sudden look of terror crossing his features before he hid it away once more.  Well, not that it wasn’t obvious, but that did confirm things. Harry looked up and responded, “I’m not sure what you mean, Sir.”

“Come now, Harry.  You are not in trouble and I will not disclose your identity if you so wish, but I would like our conversation to be frank.”

Harry looked conflicted for a moment, but it didn’t seem as though the boy distrusted him specifically, something which Albus was grateful for.  It meant that whoever had taken the boy in likely wasn’t aligned with Voldemort at all or even one of those families that were solely political adversaries.  When Harry finally answered, it was with an expression that was far more scared, more timid than the one he had entered the room with. “I don’t -- I don’t really want to be Harry Potter, Sir.”

Albus felt something hitch in his chest.  There had been another orphan he had met so long ago who had also hated his name.  After a moment, he tentatively said, “There is nothing wrong with being a Potter. Lily and James, your parents, were two of the finest people I had the pleasure of knowing.”

“It’s not about them.  I’m sure they were great.  I’ve been told they were heroes.  I just--” Harry paused and Albus could see the mask come back on.  Harry’s features smoothed out, the boy giving the sort of easy smile that couldn’t possibly be natural with how he had been acting just moments before.  “I just don’t want people seeking me out because of my fame, and this helps keep me safe from any followers of that Dark Lord I defeated that might still be out there.”

There was something heartbreaking about watching Harry in that brief moment of vulnerability, before the boy retreated back to his shell, that left Albus unable to summon up the usual twinkle in his eye or the grandfatherly demeanor that he preferred to use when interacting with his students.  He had certainly known that the Dursley’s were not pleasant people, but had believed that they would still take care of their nephew properly. Were they responsible for this behavior? How dark were Harry’s years there to want to reject everything associated with them, including his own identity?  “If you are certain, Harry, then I shall not press the issue. Although, it does bring up the issue I called you up here for. When letters were being sent out, I had noticed that you were no longer at the location we had registered as your home. Can you tell me what happened and where you went?”

“Well -- I’m not entirely sure myself.  I was running from my cousin and I fell, then suddenly I was somewhere else.  I guess I --” Harry paused, looking for the correct word. “-- Apparated. Yeah, not teleportation, apparition.  Anyways, there was someone there and he let me live with him and said he’d look after me as long as I wanted to stay there.”

“You do not know where you were or who this man was?”

“Well, he called himself Emrys,” Harry shrugged, “but as for the where, I couldn’t really tell you.  I kind of wound up there by accident, and Emrys apparated me away when we left. I suppose it was a tower of some sort if that helps.”

‘Emrys.’  Albus mulled the name over in his mind.  It was certainly an uncommon name, but not unheard of in the wizarding world.  Of course, it’s most famous bearer had been Merlin himself. Merlin Ambrosius, otherwise known as Myrddin Emrys in old Welsh.  Then there was Harry’s choice of surname, something else that, while not unique to Merlin, had also been associated with him. Myrddin Wyllt, or Merlin of the Wild, was not so much a name as it was a title, a reflection of his status and power as a druid of the time.  

Albus supposed it was possible that there was an Emrys Wyllt in modern times.  Both names, while uncommon, had persisted, and Merlin was certainly a popular enough figure for parents to want to associate their children with him.  Albus found the conclusion unlikely however. It seemed more likely that the man had chosen the name to obfuscate whoever he really was. Even Harry seemed to realize this, as the boy had said that the man ‘called himself’ Emrys, rather than saying that his name _was_ Emrys.  

While Albus was glad to see that Harry was safe and happy for the moment, the idea that his new guardian felt the need to hide his name was cause for concern.  He couldn’t investigate too deeply just yet -- he would alienate Harry if he pushed too hard -- but he could at least keep an eye on the situation. At the very least, he could hope that the clear veneration for Merlin meant that Harry would be influenced by the best of what Slytherin could be, rather than the ideals of Blood Purity that had so enamored Tom.

Albus took a moment to peer over his glasses at Harry.  Well, there was little he could do without knowing who had taken Harry in.  “Then I am glad that such an understanding individual was the one to find you, Harry.  I shall be sure to update our registry appropriately. I would ask however, that you do me the favor of writing to your new guardian to request that he come see me at some point in the future.  It is nothing urgent, but I should like to have the chance to speak with him at some point before the holidays.”

“Sure, I’ll let him know.  Was there anything else?” 

“No, I suppose that is all for now, Mister Wyllt.”  Albus couldn’t help but wince as Harry immediately brightened upon the use of his new name.  “Do take care and enjoy your classes.”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

As it turned out, even with rushing away after his meeting with the Headmaster, Harry was still late to Herbology.  Fortunately, Professor Sprout seemed to know where he had been and simply told him to find a partner. True to his prediction, Tracey had already attached herself to Hermione, but Daphne had apparently left herself open, so he joined her in front of a set of puffapods as the Professor went over the plant’s properties and what they would be doing to care for it during the next few classes.

Once they were let out however, Daphne stepped in next to him as they walked back to the castle and asked, “So what did the Headmaster want with you?”

“Oh, he was just wanting to check something with me, since my letter didn’t get sent out to where I was registered as living.  I was staying with you when it arrived, after all,” Harry lied. He waved his hand airily, in a gesture that he’d seen Emrys use before, as though to brush off Daphne’s question.

“Hm.  The Headmaster’s job must be quite dull if he has to follow up on minor paperwork issues like that all the time.”

“Yeah, I’d say it’s definitely not the sort of job I’d want.  Anyways, we’ve got Charms next, right? Do you know the way?”

As it turned out, Daphne did not actually know the way, so they ended up shadowing another group of Slytherins as they meandered their way up to the third floor.  Professor Flitwick turned out to be a rather excitable but agreeable teacher, who was always happy to field any questions a student might have.

It also turned out that the first spell they would be learning was the Wand-Lighting Charm.  Flitwick let out a small squeak of excitement when Harry cast the spell on his first try. Apparently, it was unusual for students to get it quickly, and the exercise was meant to help students to feel the flow of their magic in their bodies.  Flitwick asked Harry to cast the spell a few more times and describe the sensation of his magic, before awarding twenty points to Slytherin and declaring that Harry was clearly a natural for Charms.

It left Harry feeling a bit uncomfortable, since he had cheated in a sense, and had actually been casting the charm for the past two months.

After that, the first year Slytherins trundled up to History of Magic, a class which Harry quickly decided was an utter disappointment.  He spent most of the period doodling in his notebook, only sparing half an ear to listen to Professor Binns droning on. Was Magical Britain really in such short supply of historians that they had to let a ghost teach?  He let out a vexed sigh as his quill snapped while attempting to shade a goblin in, the ink scattering and saving the wizard that the goblin had been threatening to stab from his grisly fate.

Settling in at lunch afterwards, Harry glanced over at Blaise and asked, “How hard do you think it would be to perform an exorcism on a ghost?”

“Not worth the trouble, Harry.  The other ghosts would probably riot if you tried, and you don’t want to be on the Bloody Baron’s bad side.”

Harry simply grumbled to himself and loaded another sandwich onto his plate.

The rest of their week went much the same way. In Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall had emphasized how she would tolerate no rulebreakers in her class before going over the basic theory involved.  Finally, she had allowed them to make an attempt at turning a matchstick into a needle, though she didn’t expect any successes and they would be spending more time with it during Wednesday’s double period.  

Harry felt a bit better about immediately managing to cast the spell this time.  He hadn’t actually practiced any transfiguration yet, so he figured he could count this as his own merit, even if he did have a head start in using magic.  Actually, the entire process felt easier than he had expected, certainly easier than his first time casting the Wand-Lighting Charm. Maybe he just had a knack for transfiguration or he was actually getting better at casting magic.  Either way, Professor McGonagall was suitably impressed, if not so outspoken as Professor Flitwick had been, and awarded him another fifteen points before asking him to assist other students.

Just about everyone was looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Professor Quirrell proved to be a competent teacher, if not a particularly interesting one.  Well, perhaps Harry wasn’t being fair in that evaluation. The man was a good lecturer, he just preferred theory over practical application a bit too much for Harry’s taste.  The man did have a fondness for lowering his voice however, a way to force students to strain to listen to him if they wished to hear his lecture, which left Harry nursing a headache after a full double period in the class.

Astronomy came Tuesday night and was rather interesting, if a bit frustrating.  Harry did enjoy learning more about other planets, but actually finding them and tracking them with his telescope was something of a chore.  It didn’t help that the class was held so late at night that Harry was left feeling exhausted by the time he trudged his way back to the dungeons to fall asleep.  Talking about the class with Emrys had brought up another topic of conversation however, as the wizard mentioned how he used to predict the future through the movement of the stars.

Darting another quick look outside the curtains of his bed to make sure the other boys were still asleep, Harry turned his attention back to the Famous Wizard card sitting on his bed.  “You can use Astronomy to tell the future?”

“Oh yes, though the practice has fallen a bit out of favor here in Britain.  I think it’s still a popular subject at Uagadou however, and there’s a tribe of centaurs near Hogwarts who should be practitioners.”  

“Nearby Hogwarts?  You mean, like, in the Forbidden Forest?”

“The Forbidden Forest, huh?”  Emrys looked amused for a moment.  “I suppose the name is descriptive enough that it would help ward off students.  The proper name is the Wild, or rather the Wyllt, Forest. It was originally grown by Myrddin Wyllt back before Hogwarts was even founded.  A bit of family history for you to take pride in,” Emrys winked.

“Huh.  I guess he must have been a druid?” Harry asked.  “I’ve heard Daphne and Blaise mention that the Wyllts have a history of druidism, but I guess I never really knew what that entailed.”

“Druidism is… Well, technically all wizards are druids to some degree, as druidism is inherently about connecting yourself with the world.”  Emrys leaned back as he talked, a shift in his posture that Harry had come to learn was the man’s lecture mode. “Well, druidism as most wizards would define it is a bit more specific, I suppose.  It’s concerned more with the growth and manipulation of life energies. The classic example is a druid helping to ensure that farm crops grow strong and healthy each year to help prevent possible famines, but it’s not limited to that.  You can also cause rampant growth, using plants to constrict your foes in a way that isn’t easily dispelled. It’s even possible to use it to heal other people.”

“If it’s so powerful, then why isn’t it more popular?”

“Well, the main reason is that it’s difficult and most people are notoriously lazy.”  Harry shot Emrys a look to make it clear exactly how hypocritical he thought the man was being.  Emrys, of course, ignored it. “It also requires a certain mentality that most people lack. Druidism is, in essence, placing yourself closer to the World.  Conversely, this can be said to mean that you are distancing yourself from Humanity. It’s quite similar to your meditation in principle, but the difference is in the extent.  It’s difficult to maintain that sort of distance while still being a part of society, and most modern wizards don’t want to leave society just for a few spells that they could use other means to imitate.”

Harry supposed that was a reasonable enough outlook for most people, even if it wasn’t one that he could accept for himself.  He was a Wyllt now, after all, shouldn’t he learn more about that heritage? So what if it meant leaving society? As long as he had his friends and Emrys, that would be enough for him.  He focused on Emrys and asked, “You’re a druid too, right? Can you teach me?”

“I could, but… Well, I’ll tell you what.  Sneak down to the grounds sometime this weekend with my card and I’ll see if you have what it takes.”

Harry smiled brightly in response to that and bid Emrys goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and welcome once again to this strange hint corner.
> 
> Those observant of you may have noticed that Daphne purchased a snowy owl. I’ll confirm any suspicions and say, yes, Caelia is the owl that would have been named Hedwig in canon. 
> 
> I’ll also take a moment to discuss schedules -- or rather, how awful J.K. Rowling is at making a schedule that makes sense (or even consistent year to year). The number and placement of periods seem to change year to year and they certainly don’t make sense with regards to the number of classes compared to the number of teachers available to teach those classes. For first year however, we do have some information. Gryffindor shares Potions with Slytherin on Friday and Herbology with Hufflepuff three times a week. There’s no mention of Ravenclaw at all, but a later book mentions that Ginny and Luna shared Transfiguration, so we can count that as the third shared class. (We know not every class is shared, as DADA at the very least, was a solo class, as evidenced by the boggart demonstration in 3rd Year). 
> 
> I also wanted to take a moment to address something from last chapter. A certain guest reviewer commented, “Doesn't change the "fact" that the geometry of the energy constructs used as spells is important,” with regards to Arithmancy, along with some other comments. And I’ll just say -- yes, you are absolutely correct. Please don’t take Harry’s hypothesis based off a handful of lessons with Emrys as being necessarily factual.
> 
> Instead, I’ll stop here for now and simply hope all of you enjoyed the chapter and I will see you all next time.


	6. Early Failures

Harry sat near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, along with his potted puffapod that he had stolen from the Herbology Greenhouse.  He’d set up just inside the treeline, where it wouldn’t be easy to see him with a casual look from the castle, though he was still likely to be spotted if anyone actually came looking.  While it was still technically before curfew, it was growing late, the sun setting beyond the horizon, and he wasn’t really supposed to be in the Forbidden Forest to begin with.  
  
“Why did we have to take this again?  Why couldn’t we have just used some flower or bush or something?  We’re in a forest, after all.” Harry directed a look down at the Famous Wizard card that was anchored into the pot’s dirt to allow it to stand upright.    
  
“Hm?  I just figured that if you did manage to succeed, then you would appreciate the easy grade in Herbology.”    
  
Harry narrowed his eyes.  “Let me get this straight.  You made me risk breaking into the greenhouses to… cheat at Herbology?”  
  
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it _cheating_.  Your assignment was to care for the puffapod and see it grow healthy.  So what if you took a few shortcuts to get there? It was still your ability that made it possible.”  
  
“Whatever.”  Harry rolled his eyes and flopped down into the dirt.  “So what do I have to do?”  
  
“It’s quite similar to what you do during your meditation.  Once you’ve erased your sense of self, I want you to start focusing on feeling your magic.  Trace the flow of it throughout your body. Once you can manage that, you can try to expand your focus to your wand.  Your wand contains a piece of a Phantasmal Beast, it represents a connection to the World; you will need to follow that connection, to feel the life energies of the world around you.  From there, it’s simply a matter of recognizing the puffapod among the rest of what you’ll be able to sense and encouraging it to grow.”  
  
“Right.”  Harry let out a breath and closed his eyes.  “Got it. I’ll… get right on doing that.” He heard Emrys let out an amused chuckle, but chose to ignore it.  For now he had to focus.  
  
Harry retreated to the depths of his mind and observed the division between Hadrian Wyllt and Harry Potter.  He wore the mask of Harry Wyllt almost exclusively these days, but it didn’t mean that the boy that was Harry Potter had simply ceased to exist.  All the timidness and fear and shame of what he was; they were all still there, buried beneath the lie he had built. However, right now, he needed to be neither Harry Wllt nor Harry Potter.  He had to remove both masks and make himself transparent, one with the World.  
  
Emrys had once talked about creating a switch, a mental image to reflexively enter that state of emptiness.  That talk had been early on, when Harry was new to magic, and Harry had asked if the switch had to be flipped any time he wanted to use magic at all.  Emrys’ answer had been confusing. The man had stated that for some people that was certainly the case, but magic was inherent to the being of Wizards, a part of their life.  No matter what, they could use magic, the switch was simply about entering the right mental state. Harry was left wondering who would need the switch to use magic then, if that was the case -- everything he had heard about Wizards and Muggles stated that one was simply born with magic or they weren’t.  
  
Harry formed the image in his mind.  In his case, the word switch wasn’t all that representative.  Perhaps his ability was insufficient, but he needed something more than a switch to truly remove himself.  Lightning struck, destroying his image of himself, Wyllt and Potter alike, leaving only pure intent behind.  
  
The sensation of his magic came soon after, a feeling he had grown familiar with since his first time casting the Wand-Lighting Charm.  Electricity raced through his veins, pent up energy that danced, waiting to be released. The feeling wasn’t uncomfortable -- how could it be?  It was something that he lived with every day of his life, his magic as much a part of him as his heart beat. It was simply that he had suddenly become more aware of what was always there.  
  
From this point, Emrys had said to follow the connection his wand had with the World.  Just… he wasn’t sure how he could do that. He could certainly feel his wand, but rather than a connection with the World, he simply felt it connect to himself.  He felt like he was in a loop where he would reach out to his wand, only to be directed back towards himself. Again and again he threw himself at it, trying to force his way through, until he felt himself thinning, his will becoming less.  Soon, it wasn’t his will throwing himself at the connection, he was instead trapped there, whirling around, as though some great sluice gate had drawn him in and he was pinned against the bars, simply enduring the energy that rushed and whirled through his body when finally Emrys’ voice cut through Harry’s focus.  
  
“Stop.”  
  
Harry groaned softly, and opened his eyes, slowly rebuilding his sense of self.  The sun had fallen completely and the moon stood high in the sky. “Why didn’t you interrupt me sooner?”  
  
“I tried.  You were too deep in to listen to me.”  
  
Harry nodded slightly and fell back to lie on the ground.  “I failed,” he said.  
  
“You did.”  
  
He stared up at the stars, idly noting some of the constellations he’d learned about in Astronomy.  “I had hoped I’d at least be able to feel things right away, even if it took me longer to actually do anything with it.  Does this mean I’m not suited for Druidism?  
  
“No, Harry.  It simply means you aren’t ready yet.  Relax and enjoy your time spent with friends.  There’s no need to rush your accomplishments. These things will come with time.  
  
“Okay,” Harry replied.  There was very little else to say.  
  
Harry sat there in silence for a long time after that, simply watching the stars turn.  
 

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

   
Albus Dumbledore peered over his spectacles at the snowy-haired man that sat across from him.  He had been rather startled when the man had simply appeared in his office, with no warning from the wards that protected Hogwarts.  It had troubled him for a moment, until he realized that the man wasn’t actually there -- that this was some sort of illusion, a projection of the man’s voice and appearance.  It was honestly, quite an astounding bit of magic, though one he would have to adjust the castle’s defenses to protect against in the future.  
  
The man conjured a chair for himself and sat across from Albus, grinning quietly.  After a long moment, Albus finally broke the silence. “I am afraid that you have me at something of a disadvantage.  With how you dropped in unannounced, I did not have time to prepare tea or snacks. I do have my store of Lemon Drops however, if you would like one.”  
  
“Oh, not at all, Headmaster.  I’m sure it’s terribly rude of me to just drop in like this, even if you did ask that I visit.  Thank you for the sweets however.” The man smirked and picked up a lemon drop before popping it in his mouth.  Albus’ eyebrows shot up for a moment. Not only had this projection physically interacted with the world, but Albus had sensed the moment the lemon drop had disappeared -- transported, he suspected, to the original’s mouth.  
  
It was… concerning, if he were to be honest.  “Oh, not at all. You would be surprised at just how few visitors an old man like me gets.  It’s always quite nice to have another one. I am afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of your name, however.”  
  
“Somehow, I imagine that you’ve a few guesses already.  Regardless, you can call me Emrys Wyllt. It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Mister Dumbledore.”  
  
“Have we perhaps met out of person before?”    
  
“Not as such, though we have shared certain intellectual spaces.  I occasionally submit papers to various research publications under a pseudonym, you see.  After being featured next to you in _Transfiguration Today_ so many times, I think it’s fair to think of you as a colleague, yes?”  
  
“Certainly, Mister Wyllt.  Although, if that is the case, then perhaps we can do away with the formality -- if I may be so bold to refer to you as Emrys instead?”  Albus summoned a twinkle to his eye and gave the man a genial smile before probing, “Though I admit to some curiosity as to what name you are published under.”  
  
“Only if I can refer to you as Albus as well.  As for my most recent _nom de plume_ , I am afraid that I shall have to leave it to your imagination, though I’ve found the articles by Mari Weisen to be rather near and dear to my thoughts.”  
  
“Mari Weisen… Her most recent article was on human to animal transfiguration without affecting mental processes, as I recall,” Albus mused.  He also happened to recall that “she” had been publishing for longer than he had, with a number of people speculating that it was actually Perenelle Flamel’s alias.  Perenelle had denied it when he had asked her so long ago, of course. The man’s apparent youth did raise the question as to how exactly he had been publishing for that long however.  After all, not even the Flamel’s famous Elixir of Life completely removed the aging process, though it did slow it considerably. “Much like the animagus transformation, but cast by one party onto another instead of being a learned ability.”  
  
“Oh, yes, I had a rather fun time with that one once, though my protégé at the time made me swear off of it after she attracted the attention of a particularly winsome squirrel.  I suppose she was at that rather trying age where love problems that involve telling squirrels that you aren’t their destined mate just seem so much more dramatic than they actually are.”  
  
“Yes, I can imagine how a younger student might find that to be something of a harrowing experience, though I can imagine some of my more precocious students enjoying the memory after the fact.  I take it then, that Harry is not the first child that you’ve looked after?”  
  
Emrys hesitated at the question, a sort of wistful smile growing on his face, the sort of smile that Albus recognized from having worn far too often himself, as the man reflected on memories that had clearly grown bittersweet.  “I’ve had students before, but I suppose that’s not what you’re asking, is it? No, Harry is the first time I’ve tried to act like as a parent to someone.”  
  
“I am told that parenthood is quite a rewarding experience,” Albus probed.  “Is there a reason you have not until now, or why you decided to take young Harry under your wing?”  
  
Emrys smiled in response.  It was quite a perfect smile, warm and caring and full of paternal love.  It was so perfect, in fact, that Albus couldn’t help the feeling that it was somehow fake.  “Of course, it’s been a joy looking after, Harry. However, men like you and I are not truly meant to raise children, Albus.  Our perspectives are too different, our past sins too heavy. It’s part of why I encourage him to form relationships elsewhere, it wouldn’t do if he became too reliant on me.”  
  
“Then why not return him to his Aunt and Uncle’s after finding him, if you believed yourself so ill-suited?”  
  
“I gave him the option, of course.”  The wizard in white paused, his gaze sharpening.  “I do think it says something about the quality of care that he received in their house that he would rather stay with a stranger who he knew nothing about than with the people he had lived with his entire life.”  
  
Albus closed his eyes and sighed softly.  “Perhaps that is the case. I certainly was aware that the Dursleys were not on particularly good terms with Lily and James when I brought Harry to them after the death of his parents, but they were still his closest family and I had hoped that they would treat him as such.”  
  
Emrys shrugged and waved a hand.  “I didn’t come to belabor the mistakes of the past, Albus.  I assume you called me here to see that I was capable of keeping Harry safe, given that you could no longer count on the blood protection that was laid on him, yes?  Then I assure you, whenever Harry is staying with me, nothing will find him or harm him. His most vulnerable will be when he is visiting his friends, but even then, I would count the protection that anonymity lends him to be a fair bit more useful than what he had previously.”  
  
“And where, exactly, is it that Harry is staying with you?”  
  
Emrys smiled enigmatically and simply said, “An apple orchard that I’m rather fond of.  I’m afraid that’s all I can say for the moment.”  


•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

   
Harry decided that Professor Snape had a certain flair for the dramatic, as he watched the teacher stride into the classroom, the man’s robes billowing out behind him.  The man stalked among the aisles, glaring at the students while he called role -- and while he didn’t say anything directly, he managed to place an ever so slight mocking lilt to his voice every time he called the name of a Gryffindor that had several of the boys’ faces turning red in anger.    
  
Harry simply grinned from the seat he’d grabbed next to Neville.  While the whole House rivalry thing still seemed stupid to him, he couldn’t deny that it _was_ an impressive show.    
  
Eventually Professor Snape finished calling names and looked up, his eyes tracing over each student in turn.  “You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”  
  
The class sat in a quiet sort of awe after this speech, a spark of excitement in most of the students’ eyes -- though Neville looked rather queasy instead, and had turned a distinct shade of green.  Harry elbowed him and flashed a quick smile to reassure the boy when he looked up. Neville hesitated a moment before tremulously smiling back, though he didn’t quite loose the tinge of green in his face.    
  
Professor Snape paused for a moment, letting his words sink in, before stating, “Today we will be creating a basic Boil Cure potion.  The instructions are on the board. Begin.”  
  
Neville immediately began fumbling for his ingredients and Harry pursed his lips for a moment.  Neville was obviously afraid that he would screw up somehow, but that nervousness was more likely to cause mistakes than prevent them.  Harry wanted Neville to succeed, but wasn’t sure how to go about it. Just doing the work for the boy wouldn’t help in the long run, and just sitting back and allowing him to fail was obviously out of the question as well.    
  
Harry supposed the question came down to, ‘What would Harry Wyllt do?’  It was the lie he had constructed for himself after all, he just had to figure out how to live it.  Though, come to think of it, Harry Potter had been much like Neville. He had also been timid, shrinking from authority figures, scared as much of success as he was of failure.  Harry’s lips quirked up for a moment as the necessary lie came to his mind.  
  
“Calm down, Neville.  You’ll do great. Let’s just go over things step by step, alright?”  
  
Neville shook his head in response.  “You don’t understand, Harry. I’m pants at magic, just like I knew I’d be.  I haven’t managed to cast a spell all week.”  
  
“It’s a good thing that there isn’t much magic involved here then, is it?”  Harry grinned and placed a hand over Neville’s to help steady it. “You heard Professor Snape.  There’s ‘little foolish wand-waving in here.’ This class is all about your mind, how well you know the material.  Now come on, let’s start by grinding the snake fangs. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”  
  
Neville set to work and Harry did his best to keep the boy calm, occasionally interjecting when it seemed like he was about to make a mistake.  Harry certainly helped, but he made sure it was Neville responsible for preparing the potion.  
  
Meanwhile, Professor Snape stalked the aisles, taking points from the Gryffindors for every minor mistake he could find.  Though, while the loss of points was reserved for Gryffindors, not even the Slytherins escaped the man’s sharp tongue. The only student that Professor Snape praised was Draco, and it seemed like every other comment was about how well the boy performed compared to the rest of the class.    
  
When Harry and Neville turned in their potion at the end of class, Professor Snape’s lips thinned for a moment, his gaze turning to Neville as though to stare holes in the boy, before looking back to Harry.  “Exceeds Expectations. Be sure to keep this standard of work going forward.” Harry grinned in response and he looked over at Neville who’s eyes seemed wide enough to fit dish plates. Before they could turn to leave however, Professor Snape cut in again and said, “And Mister Wyllt, I expect that you no longer coddle Longbottom in the future.  I expect to see full effort from both of you.”  
  
“Of course, Sir.  Is there anything else?”  
  
“No.  Now, begone.  I will be most… displeased to find any loiterers in front of my classroom when I leave.”  
  
Harry nodded and left quickly, waiting until they had left the classroom to slap Neville on the shoulder and say, “What did I tell you?  Exceeds Expectations, all on your own merits, Nev.”  
  
“I’m… actually good at something?”  The boy broke into a sudden smile and turned to wrap his arms around Harry, drawing him into a hug.  “Thanks, Harry. I’m sure I wouldn’t have managed if you weren’t there helping me.”  
  
Harry stiffened under the sudden contact, though he tried not to let it show, instead simply saying, “Well, that’s what friends are for, right?”  
  
“Right.”  Neville let out a short laugh before letting go.  “It probably won’t impress my Gran, but it’s still something a whole lot better than bouncing when I fall.”  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows, certain there was a story there, but a tall redhead burst out of the classroom and called out to Neville before he could ask.  “Oi, Neville! What are you hanging out with some slimy snake for? C’mon, we’ve got Charms to get to.”  
  
Harry honestly couldn’t say he cared all that much about being labelled a ‘slimy snake,’ but Neville looked indignant on his behalf.  It was nice of him, but it would be better if Neville didn’t get in a fight over Harry. He reached out to put a hand on Neville’s arm to calm the boy down.  He was spared the trouble however, as Draco walked out a moment later, and apparently having heard the redhead’s words, sneered down at the boy. “Please, Weasley, I’m sure you know far more about slime than us snakes, what with how your family can barely even afford soap.”  
  
The redhead, Weasley apparently, flushed red all the way to the tip of his ears.  “Shut up! Any one of my family is worth ten of yours, Malfoy!”  
  
“A shame your father’s paycheck isn’t ten times the size then,” Draco drawled and looked at his hand idly, as though checking his nails was more important than dealing with the redhead.  “Of course, when his son receives a… What was it? A _Dreadful_ on his potions grade, it's hardly surprising that your family is as poor off as they are.  Clearly your education is lacking -- Hardly better than some mudblood.”  
  
Harry winced and tugged on Neville’s sleeve.  This was going south fast and he didn’t want to be on the scene when Professor Snape showed up.  “C’mon Nev, let’s--” he started, only to be interrupted as Weasley let out a yell and charged at Draco, his arm cocking back to throw a punch.  Vince got in front of the redhead to block him before he could get Draco, but another Gryffindor boy jumped in to help a moment later, which led to Greg coming to help Vince and soon most of the boys in the hallway were in the scuffle.  
  
Punches and kicks were flying every which way when Professor Snape finally stormed out to demand, “What is going on out here?!”  
 

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

  
In the end, Gryffindor had lost thirty points and almost all of the first year boys had detentions.  Slytherin, of course, got off with no punishments at all. Rather, they had received no _public_ punishments.  In the privacy of their own common room was another matter entirely, as Snape had lined the first years involved in the fight up in front of the rest of the House and proceeded to spend over half an hour lecturing them about what incompetent idiots they were, fighting like muggles in the middle of the hallway -- and the next time it happened, to have the decency to do it outside some other teacher’s classroom so he, at least, wouldn’t have to deal with it.  
  
Of course, while there weren’t any more hallway brawls after that, it certainly didn’t keep Draco from making snide comments every time he saw Weasley.  Weasley made the attempt to respond in kind, but he was often the loser of those little exchanges, and he was often left fuming, his Gryffindor friends doing their best to hold him back from another fight.  It had gotten to the point where the Slytherin students had started a betting pool on when Draco would finally make Weasley snap again. The longest anyone was willing to bet on was two weeks.  
  
Weasley apparently had better control over his temper than most people expected however, or had learned his lesson from what happened the first time, as two weeks came and went with no real incident to speak of.    
  
As for Harry, classes were proving to be a bit slower than he had expected.  Classes seemed to alternate between practical application and theory for the most part, which Harry admitted was important, but the result was that it took weeks for each class to go over a single spell.  This was made especially irritating for Harry, as he was consistently the first one to successfully cast any spells they learned in class.  
  
This meant that teachers often assigned him to helping other students.  It wasn’t such a big deal with Daphne and Blaise, who were both quick learners anyways, but trying to teach Vince and Greg just wore on his patience, especially when they asked him for help outside of class as well.  He was honestly tempted to turn them down, but well, the two were nice enough blokes even if they were a bit slow, so he would have felt a bit bad just leaving them on their own.  
  
The simple fact of the matter however, was that Harry was _bored_.  He had settled into a routine of spending most of his free time during the week at the library, and then over the weekend he would wander the grounds, exploring and chatting with Emrys.  It was nice, in a sense, but it still left Harry feeling frustrated. He hardly ever saw his friends from other Houses outside of classes, but he felt like he learned more on his weekends with Emrys than he actually did in class.  
  
It was during one such weekend where Harry was poking around through the unused classrooms on the sixth floor when Emrys spoke up.  “I think you need a project of some sort to keep yourself focused, Harry.”  
  
Harry let out a small snort.  “I don’t particularly need to be focused, Emrys.  I’ve been keeping up with classes just fine.”  
  
Emrys rolled his eyes in response.  “Yes, and that’s the problem. You’ve been keeping up with classes so well that you’ve decided that the best use of your time is poking through dusty old classrooms that haven’t been used in over a decade, if not longer.”  
  
“Hey, knowing the layout of the school and where everything is can be useful…”  
  
“I’m not going to dignify that excuse with a response, Harry.  You already have the map I drew you for that.” Harry shifted uneasily.  Indeed, the gift that Emrys had mentioned on Harry’s first night at Hogwarts had arrived a few days later with the owl post.  It had been a beautifully drawn map of Hogwarts that even included a number of secret passages between floors and the passwords to access them.  It even updated itself whenever the stairwells and the occasional hallway moved themselves about, as locations in Hogwarts were wont to do. Once Harry had acquainted himself with the passageways, he hadn’t been late for a class since.    
  
Emrys let the silence hang for a moment before continuing, “Listen, It’s almost October already.  When was the last time you did anything productive with your time?”  
  
“I use weeknights to study, you know that.”  Harry objected, even as he left the classroom, wandering down the corridor.  
  
“Yes, material that you already know or will be learning in class soon anyways.  I’ve let you sulk since your failure with learning Druidism, but this is getting to be a bit much.  You can’t be afraid to keep exploring magic just because you hit one stumbling block.”

 “I haven’t been sulking!  I just…” Harry felt another objection at the tip of his tongue, but swallowed it after a moment and slumped down.  “It kind of terrified me, you know? I felt like I was swept up in it, like I had no control over it at all, and it would have swallowed me whole if you hadn’t been there.”

 “Well, that’s because you can’t control it, Harry.  Not like that. Most magic you study will use your own body.  You might siphon power from outside, but even then it’s processed by your body before being changed to whatever spell you make.  Druidism is different from that. You’re tapping directly into the World. Of course you can’t control something as vast as the World.  All you can do is help direct it. It’s a lesson in humility and submission and the loss of ego, Harry.”

“Submission?”

“Mm, how to explain it.  You have to understand first of all that the World has a will of its own, Harry.  It’s not just energy or natural laws that you’re interacting with as a druid. A normal wizard can act the scientist to a degree, measuring and explaining and siphoning off magic from the World.  A druid, however, directly interacts with the World’s will -- and that will is utterly foreign to humanity. That’s why, the more human you are, the closer you are to society and how humans think, the more difficult it is to be a druid.  It allows for greater feats than most magic, but it requires that you submit your ego to the World’s will, to become aligned closer to the world than with other humans.”

“Wait, what do you mean the World has a will of its own?  I thought you were being metaphorical when you said magic was lying to the world, but there’s an actual consciousness that we’re lying to?”

“Well, consciousness might not be the right word for it.  It’s not… sapient, as such.”

Harry stopped at a blank stretch of the wall opposite the painting of a knight.  He tapped the wall and murmured, “ _Curtana_.”  A passageway opened and he stepped inside before asking, “Wait, then how do rituals play into druidism?  I know that they’re supposedly related to druids, but they aren’t interfacing with a consciousness the way you’re talking about.”

“Oh, that’s just a case of misinformation and stupidity,” Emrys replied.  “Or rather, it’s a difference in definition. See, your average wizard doesn’t actually know what Druidism entails.  To them, it’s just a subset of spells that happen to interface with nature. So any spell can be considered druidic if it affects nature under that definition.  The Formal Craft is most definitely not Druidism, even if some druids might take advantage of it. Regardless, we’ve wandered a bit from the original topic.”

“I still wasn’t sulking.”

“No, Harry, you needed some time to yourself and that’s fine.  Everyone does from time to time. However, it’s time you snapped out of it.  Give yourself something to do, a goal to work towards outside of class.”

“So what’s this project of yours then?  Does it involve more meditation?”

“Alas, it does not involve making you quiet for long stretches of time,” Emrys smirked, ignoring Harry’s glare.  “I thought instead, since you’ve been so interested in those books on Runes, I’d say it’s time we got you started on learning how to enchant objects -- and I have just the idea for you to start with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note
> 
> Hello everyone, and welcome once again to this strange hint corner.
> 
> Failure at something really important can feel quite harsh for most children, and adults as well, especially when they are used to succeeding at everything else they’ve tried. Sometimes it’s important to simply move on and keep trying.
> 
> On the topic of Emrys’ conversation with Dumbledore, some of you might recognize Emrys’ description of squirrel transfiguration from Disney’s The Sword in the Stone. Artoria was rather less amused with the whole adventure than the Disney version of Arthur however.
> 
> Anyways, I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter and I will see you all next time.


	7. Warpath

Harry frowned in concentration as he slowly chipped away at the stone, carefully etching a second line into it.  Every now and then, he would glance at the book that lay open next to him, confirming his work before returning his attention to his carving.  Once he finally finished, he let out a soft sigh and lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, despite the chill autumn air.

A throat cleared impatiently from the book beside Harry, where Emrys’ card sat, tucked between the pages.  “Well? Let me see how you did.”

Harry smiled ruefully before picking up the stone and flipping it to silently show Emrys’ the _Laguz_ rune he had engraved on it.  The pair sat alone beneath a tree next to the Black Lake.  It was technically a free period, and still warm enough that some students ventured outside, but they were two weeks into October now and the cold of the Scottish Highlands was quickly making itself known.

Emrys simply studied it critically for a moment before stating, “You’ve got the line lengths and strokes right now, but your angle is still off.”

Harry groaned and tossed the stone into the lake.  “Couldn’t we at least practice on parchment or something?  It takes ages to carve a single rune just for practice.”

“Carving something and drawing it are two very different skill sets, and you’ll have to be capable of carving it when you do the real thing, Harry.  So no, keep practicing on stones.”

Harry grumbled under his breath, but smiled all the same.  His etchings were getting better, so it was only a matter of time before Emrys let him move on to making an actual attempt at enchanting something.  He stood and stretched out, glancing over the Lake, before casting a quick _Tempus._  “Dragon dung!  Lunch is in less than five minutes, I’ll have to run to get there on time.”

“Well, don’t let me hold you up,” Emrys grinned and continued in a teasing tone, “We all know how much Professor Snape loathes to see his Slytherins running in the corridors.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me.  I don’t need a week cleaning cauldrons like Blaise got when he was late for Potions.”  Professor Snape had, of course, waited until Blaise was safely back in the Slytherin common room, away from prying Gryffindor eyes, before handing out the punishment.  Most of the other Houses believed that Professor Snape favored the Slytherins, and while it was true to an extent -- he often went out of his way to antagonize and take points off of Gryffindors while completely ignoring minor infractions from Slytherins unless they personally annoyed him or reflected poorly on the House -- when he did decide to punish his wards, he tended to come down far more harshly than on the other Houses.

Harry hurriedly stuffed the book, Famous Wizard card and all, into his pack along with the etching tools he’d been using before rushing off for the Great Hall.  Even with running it proved to be a close thing however, and he slipped into an open seat next to Daphne just before food began appearing on the table.

Daphne simply raised her eyebrow at his sudden appearance and said, “I was starting to wonder if you would make an appearance today.”

“Well, I could hardly miss your smile, now could I?”  Harry put on Emrys’ seventh smile, supposedly capable of dazzling a girl to distract her from paying attention to details that were better left unknown (though he’d yet to see it work on Daphne), before swiping a bit of the steak and kidney pie for himself.  “Have they gotten Draco yet today?”

“You don’t seem to mind missing it too much with how scarce you’ve been lately,” Daphne replied, a faint thread of irritation in her voice.  “As for Draco, no, nothing yet. Blaise and Tracey are betting on it happening during Dinner.”

“And what do you think?”

Before she could reply, Draco took a bite out of his meal, only for his hair to suddenly change into a great plume of feathers.  The boy shouted in outrage, though it sounded more like a squawk. Daphne smiled and glanced back towards Harry. “Lunch, I should think.”

Over the last month, Draco and Ron Weasley’s back and forth insults had become a popular pastime to watch for most of Slytherin, even if Ron had made most of the students in the House lose a great deal of money on betting pools by not lashing out and punching Draco again.  This didn’t mean that the Weasley had not retaliated however. It seemed that Ron had taken advantage of those few weeks to learn from his older brothers, and now watching Draco run afoul of some new prank every day had become the new source of amusement for the student body.  As for Draco, he had looked increasingly skittish, often checking over his shoulder just walking down the corridor -- not that it served to actually shut him up whenever he ran into the Weasleys. However, with the great variety of pranks employed on the pale boy, everyone had a great deal of fun trying to guess what next trick would be employed.

“I do have to wonder how they keep managing to slip him things.  I know for a fact that Draco’s started checking his food.”

“Well, it could be that whatever they’re using simply slips past basic diagnostic spells.  My bet is that the twin Weasleys are using Switching Charms, however.”

“Sneaking it into his food after he checks it, huh?”  Harry tapped a finger against his jaw. “Clever, though it wouldn’t work once someone became sensitive enough to their surroundings.  A spell that close to you has to be hard to miss.”

Daphne furrowed her brow at Harry’s analysis.  “If you say so, Harry. You’re almost certainly the top of our year, so maybe you’ve felt something the rest of haven’t.  I certainly don’t feel when someone else casts a spell near me however.”

“What?”  Harry stared at Daphne.  “But sensing your magic and the magic of your surroundings is the basics of the basics, isn’t it?”

Daphne’s lips thinned, a flash of anger and hurt pride in her eyes, though Harry couldn’t imagine why that would be the case.  “I’m sorry that we can’t all be prodigies like you, Harry,” she snapped before standing up. “I think I’ll go to the library to study, I’m suddenly not very hungry.”

“Daphne, what--?”  

Harry made to get up to follow the blonde girl, only to suddenly be grabbed and jerked back by a feathered hand.  An enraged Draco, who looked to have now grown feathers overs his entire body and looked a strange cross between bird and man, glared at Harry.  “Wyllt! You were bragging about how your connections with other Houses would be useful, well now’s the time! I want vengeance! I want to stomp Weasley into the dirt!”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, adjusting his mask to better fit for a conversation with Draco.  When he opened his eyes once again, it was with an easy smile. “Come on, Draco, he’s a Weasley, he’s practically already in the dirt, right?  What exactly do you need me to do anyways?”

“Not.  Now. I don’t need to hear jokes about those pathetic Blood Traitors, I just need something to use against them.  I’ve tried threatening them with my father’s influence, with having Crabbe and Goyle corner them in a corridor, even with reporting them to Snape and they just laugh me off every time!  Use Longbottom to get blackmail on them or lure them into a trap or something!”

Harry winced and put a hand on Draco’s shoulder, gently urging the boy to sit down.  “Alright, let’s go over this. It sounds like you’ve been thinking about this the wrong way.  You’ve just been trying to make them stop, when you should be trying to prove your superiority to them, right?”

Draco took several deep, shuddering breaths before answering, “Yes, I suppose.  Yes, that does sound like something Father would say, I need to show I’m above them.”

“Right, so let’s think like a Gryffindor for a moment.  To them, none of the methods you tried makes you superior to them -- it makes them think you’re weak, Draco, that you’re incapable of standing up to them yourself.  Every attempt you made to threaten them relied on someone else’s authority. To a Lion, seeing that sort of weakness is the same as seeing prey.”

“I’m not -- I’m not weak!  I am a Malfoy! Malfoys bow to no one!”

“Of course you’re not, Draco.  You’ve just allowed the Lions to catch you off-guard.  So it’s time to show them that they picked the wrong fight.  If you want to show them that you’re superior to them, then you have to engage them on their terms.  Creative, unconventional attacks coming at the least expected and most opportune moments should belong to the House of the Cunning, not the Bold, Draco.  They wanted to fight using pranks so bad; show them that it’s not just Lions who have fangs.”

Draco slowly nodded, a smile spreading across his lips.  “I’ll need to talk to Uncle Severus, get some ideas. You’re right, of course, if it’s to be war then we should obviously be ready to strike back.  You’ll stand with me when the time comes, Harry?”

“Of course, Draco.  Of course.”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Two days later, the hair of Fred, George, and Ron Weasley all turned an emerald green with silver stripes in it during Dinner.  The twins apparently took it in stride, laughing about how a new challenger had appeared, but Ron glared over at the Slytherin table, where Draco raised a goblet in acknowledgement.  The battle had begun.

Fortunately for Harry, Draco had essentially painted a target on his back, so while he often roped Harry in for helping plan his pranks, Harry generally avoided any of the Weasleys’ wrath.  It was eating into more of Harry’s time than he felt comfortable with though, particularly with his enchanting project on the side, so after awhile he decided to make a game of it for the Slytherin Common Room.  Most of the first years, and even some of the upper years, joined in, taking turns coming up with new schemes for Draco to enact upon their rival House. Draco, of course, thrived on the attention, preening over his new status as the leader of this small war against Gryffindor.

As for Harry, once he’d freed himself from the planning process, he returned to secluding himself on the Grounds for the most part, working on his rune etchings.  If there was one thing that was bothering him, it was that Daphne had apparently decided to stop talking to him altogether. He’d tried to talk to her a few times in the common room or at mealtimes, but she’d acted as if he hadn’t said anything at all, and when they were supposed to pair up in class she consistently sought out either Tracey or Lily to partner with.  

Harry wasn’t so stupid that he couldn’t realize that Daphne was mad at him for some reason, the only thing was that he couldn’t fathom what that reason might be.  He had tried asking her, only to be brushed off. He’d even tried writing Astoria about it after a week of this treatment, only for the girl to write back that both he and Daphne were stupid and that he had best fix things before Christmas or she would beat him up in Daphne’s stead.

Sometimes he wasn’t sure which sister was scarier.

Astoria’s unhelpfulness aside, there wasn’t much he could do if Daphne wouldn’t even speak to him.  So, he decided to simply set the issue aside for the time being. When Daphne was ready to talk, then he would ask her what was wrong.  

It was with this on his mind that Harry settled down by the lake to work once again, shivering lightly even with having set bluebell flames into a jar to warm himself.  “It’s going to be hard to keep doing this soon. We might have to find an empty classroom to work indoors, Emrys.” He bit down on his lip, focusing on getting the angle of the line right this time, but glanced at Emrys’ card when no response came -- only to find it empty.  He scowled for a moment. The man had probably ducked out to grab snacks again, leaving Harry alone out in the cold.

Well, there was no helping it.  He closed the book he’d been working from with a sigh and began putting away his tools.  Honestly, he wasn’t sure how Quidditch players stood it, with two matches played in November and a third in February.  To be fair, he supposed that the cold had come rather early this year.

“You know, I’ve heard that a bit of happiness escapes a person when they sigh.”

Harry jumped at the sudden voice and looked over his shoulder at the redheaded girl who had approached.  “Hey there, Susan. What brings you out here?”

“Oh, just taking a walk.”  The girl sat down next to him and peered curiously at the chisel at Harry’s side.  “Is this where you’ve been disappearing to lately? No one seems to know what you’ve been up to, even in your own House.”

Harry scratched at the back of his neck and gave a rueful smile.  “It’s nothing that mysterious. I’ve just been interested in Ancient Runes a bit, so I’ve been studying ahead on the subject.”

“Don’t we start that in third year?  That’s quite a bit ahead. Though, with how you perform in Transfiguration, perhaps I shouldn’t be too surprised.”  

“I suppose, but…”  Harry paused, searching for an excuse.  “Well, it’s not like the actual basics of the material are that much more difficult than what we’re learning now.  It’s essentially just learning the alphabet for another language. The school probably just delays electives until third year because they think it’s more important to focus on building the fundamentals early on.”

“Oh,” Susan smiled and leaned forward slightly.  “Maybe you can teach me sometime, then.”

“Mm…”  Harry hemmed.  If he was being honest, he didn’t really want to teach Susan.  She was nice enough, but he already felt like he was wasting a lot of his time helping tutor students from his House in the core classes, and he wouldn’t be able to talk with Emrys if Susan was there as well.  For whatever reason, the man didn’t want anyone to know they had the card to communicate with, and Harry kind of liked having that shared secret with Emrys. “Maybe later, Susan. I’m still learning the basics myself, after all, I don’t think I could teach it to anyone just yet.”

“Later then.  It’s a promise, Harry,” Susan beamed and Harry could only smile weakly in return.  It seemed like he would be unable to avoid it, at least not without hurting Susan’s feelings.  

The two lingered there by the lakeside for awhile longer, quiet for the most part, before the cold finally drove them back to the castle.  Feeling a bit awkward, Harry ventured, “So how have things been over in Hufflepuff? We don’t seem to see each other outside of classes and mealtimes very often.”

“Yeah, the homework’s not too bad, but it seems like everyone just goes to the library or back to their common rooms once classes are done.  Everyone in Hufflepuff’s been really welcoming though. The prefects always have time to help if you need it and our Quidditch players have been talking about letting us First Years practice with them so that we have a better shot of making the team next year.”

“Oh, that’s rather nice of them.  I don’t think there’s going to be much room on the Slytherin team for the next couple of years.  There’s quite a few third years on it, and even the captain is only a fifth year.”

“That’s a shame.  Blaise seems to think that you’d singlehandedly win the Cup for your House if you were on the team.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and commented, “I didn’t know you were friends with Blaise.  Regardless, I don’t think it’d be anything that dramatic, no matter how good I was. It is a team game, after all.”

“I wouldn’t say friends, exactly… We get along well enough when we have occasion to talk, but I can’t say that we go out of our way to spend time together.”

“How come?  He’s generally a pretty good guy all around.”

Susan let out a small snort.  “He is when he wants to be. Catch him when he’s in a bad mood and he can be downright spiteful.  He’s usually pretty good about not acting that way in public, but some impressions don’t go away.”

Harry hummed lightly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.  He had yet to see that side of Blaise himself, and he lived in the same dorm as the boy, but he didn’t think Susan was the sort to lie either.  A pause grew between the two of them before Susan asked, “So what’s been going on with you and Daphne, Harry?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Harry replied warily, leaving Susan to roll her eyes in response.

“Come off it, Harry.  A blind person could see that you two had some sort of fight.  So what happened?”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh and threw up his hands. “Bollocks if I know, Susan.  One minute we’re having a conversation about how the Weasleys were pranking Draco and the next she’s storming off in a huff!”

“I doubt it was that simple, Harry.  Why don’t you tell me exactly what you said, and I’ll see if I can help.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair and played back the conversation with Daphne to the best of his ability.  When he finished, he looked back at Susan who wore a rather exasperated expression on her face. “For someone so bright, Harry, you sure can be an idiot sometimes.”

“What?” Harry blinked.

“Look, Daphne outright stated that she couldn’t sense magic the way you were describing and then you said it was the ‘basics of the basics,’ right?  In other words, you just said that she was so incompetent that she couldn’t even manage the basics of magic, Harry.”

“What?  But Daphne isn’t incompetent, she does great in class.  That’s why it’s so weird that she _doesn’t_ know how to sense the magic around her, it was one of the first things that my guardian taught me.”

“You’re doing it again, Harry,” Susan chided.  “Most of our parents don’t actually do much to teach us magic, they leave that up to Hogwarts.  Yes, Flitwick’s emphasized feeling your own magic flowing when casting Charms, but that’s about all we’ve learned on the subject.  Nothing about feeling your surroundings or other people casting yet. I get that you didn’t mean anything bad by it, but for someone with as much pride as Daphne has, I’m sure like it felt like you were looking down at her.”

“Ugh,” Harry groaned.  “That’s bloody ridiculous.  How am I supposed to apologize to her then?  She won’t even talk to me lately.”

“It’s not ridiculous, Harry, she just has a different perspective than you do.  Anyways, if you want to apologize, then I’ll try to see if I can help arrange something.  For now though, it looks like Malfoy wants you.” She nodded up towards doors to the Great Hall, where the pale-faced boy shuffled, occasionally glancing over his shoulder, while waiting for the two of them to come closer.

Harry frowned slightly, but gave Susan a small nod.  “Alright, I suppose I had best see what he wants then.  Thanks for the help, Susan.”

“Anytime, Harry,” she smiled and waved him off.

Harry watched Susan leave for a moment before shaking his head and heading up to deal with Draco.  He raised his hand in greeting, but the boy didn’t wait for him to speak before grabbing his arm and beginning to tug him down the hallway.  “Finally. I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation with Bones, but I swear the two of you couldn’t walk any slower. Anyways, come on, we’re planning Stage Two and we need you down in the common room.”

“Stage Two of _what_ , Draco?  What’s this about?”

“The War, what else, Harry?  Come on, we don’t want to get caught out in the halls by the Weasley’s.”

Harry blinked and let himself be dragged down to the dungeons.  Since when had there been a Stage Two to this stupid prank war of Draco’s?  Either way, Draco seemed to practically fly along the corridors as he dragged Harry in his wake, until they came to the blank stretch of wall that hid the Slytherin dorms.  He looked both ways before leaning in to mutter the password, _Argent_ , and hurried them through the door that slid open.

Inside, Harry found that all of the first year boys had gathered (and some third years, he recognized Warrington and Pucey from the House Quidditch team) and had drawn up chairs around a table.  Harry lowered himself into a sofa nearby, but Draco strode to the head of the table and announced, “Gentlemen, thank you for gathering. As you know, we’ve been engaged in combat with the lowly Gryffindors.  Do not fear, however, for we will be victorious in the end.”

Harry tilted his head, listening for a moment.  It seemed like Draco had been practicing whatever speech he had cooked up.  The boy delivered his words smoothly and the others gathered around the table nodded in time with what he said.  After a moment’s pause, Draco continued, “Thus far we’ve been reactionary. The Gryffindors began this war and we’ve responded in kind to their attacks.  However, if we are to win this, then we cannot simply use the same tactics that they do. We must go above and beyond and do something that they have no hope of competing with.”

“Alright, so what did you have in mind?”  Blaise asked as he kicked his feet up onto the table and leaned back in his chair.

Draco eyed the Italian boy in distaste for a moment before answering, “Halloween.  We need to plan a spectacle, make it known that we’re planning a prank so big that it will blow the Gryffindor’s out of the water and make it clear that even with advanced notice they won’t be able to stop us.”

“That is why I brought --”  Draco was suddenly interrupted as a feminine scream came from the girls’ washroom, and a moment later frogs began hopping their way down the hallway, in enough numbers that there soon was hardly anywhere left to stand.  Draco stared, unable to say anything for a long while, before bursting out, “How the bloody hell did they get into the Slytherin dorms?! Who told them how to get in?!” Draco tugged at his hair and glared at everyone present before finally turning to look at Harry.  “Wyllt, you’re our chief strategist. It’s up to you to make sure that the Weasleys do not get away with this!”

And there was the catch.  Harry had a feeling that things were moving in that direction, but he had hoped that Draco might try to make things a group effort instead.  Well, at least this way he could pawn the actual work of implementing things off to the others. He tapped idly on the arm of his chair, considering for a long moment, before finally nodding.  “Alright, Draco. Give me some time to think things over and I’ll make sure that this is a Halloween that everyone remembers.”

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Daphne tapped her foot irritably as she made another attempt at changing her quill into a candle only let out a vexed noise as she noted the candle had a sharp wick and plumage sticking out of the wax.  She glanced across the room to where Harry was showing the same spell to Susan and watched as the quill turned seamlessly into a perfect candle. Susan even picked it up and sniffed at it, before cooing over the scent.

“You could just talk to him, you know.”

Daphne pressed her lips together and turned to glare at Tracey.  “I have nothing to talk with him about. If he wants to spend his time with Bones hanging off of him, that’s fine by me.  In the meantime, I’m going to get good enough to cast a spell before he can.”

Tracey rolled her eyes.  “You do know that this is the stupidest reason ever to get competitive over, right?  Or that you can try to beat him while still talking to him?”

“ _Lucernifors.”_  She attempted the spell once again, opting to ignore Tracey.  

“Ignoring me won’t make me go away,” Tracey said teasingly as she drew a feather along the back of Daphne’s neck.  Daphne bit down to keep herself from squealing and shot a hand out to catch Tracey’s wrist, scowling at the girl who simply smiled back without a hint of guilt.  “But it might make Harry go away. You should at least give him the chance to apologize.”

Daphne let out a slow breath before releasing Tracey’s wrist.  “He has nothing to apologize for, really,” she said softly. “Anyone can tell at a glance that he’s gifted in magic.  Just -- I refuse to be looked down on. So I have to be better, to keep up with him.”

“Merlin, you’re such a pain sometimes -- He’s not looking down at you, Daphne.  He made one careless comment and you got your knickers in a twist. Just let it go.”

Daphne nearly growled in response before suppressing the reaction.  “I’ll let it go when you start wearing your hat again, Tracey,” she snapped.

Tracey flinched back, a hand rising to her bare hair before lowering again.  “You know why I can’t do that, Daphne. Pansy would just make a scene over my ‘muggle nonsense’ again.”

“Then get good enough with your wand that you can hex her if she tries, Tracey.  Weakness is not a virtue -- you shouldn’t let Pansy push you around.”

“Yes and if it were just Pansy, I would push right back,” Tracey scoffed.  “But when it’s Pansy and Millicent and the Carrow twins and Elnora Rubis, what exactly do you expect me to do?  Unless you plan to stand next to me and help hex them, you can shove that ‘weakness is not a virtue’ bunk up your arse, Daphne.”

“I thought… Wait, wasn’t Elnora a half-blood as well?”

“Yes, which just makes her all the worse.  Like she has to prove that she’s just as worthy of being in Slytherin as the purebloods by putting down anything Muggle,” Tracey spat out.

“Why didn’t you tell me before that Pansy was getting second and third years to help her?”

“What would you have even done?  No, for now I’m keeping my head low until I can get back at Pansy quietly.  That’s what it means to be Slytherin, Daphne -- Pansy might have me outnumbered in a direct confrontation, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find other ways to get to her -- and the same goes for you.  So what if Harry has you beat in learning spells at the moment? Find other ways to beat him if you need to satisfy your competitive streak so badly.”

Daphne gave Tracey a small frown before sighing and giving a small nod.  “Fine. You win, Tracey. So how do I go about beating him without competing directly with him?”

Tracey’s lips quirked up into a little smirk that Daphne recognized from all the other times Tracey had suggested something to shock her.  “Well, you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend yet--”

“No.”

“You’ll want to be quick though, or Bones might beat you to it.”

“I said no, Tracey.  Do you have any useful advice to give?”

Tracey let out a loud laugh only to slap a hand over her mouth when Professor McGonagall glared at her.  Once McGonagall turned her attention back away Tracey whispered, “Unfortunately, that was my only suggestion.  If you don’t want to follow my idea, then you’ll have to find one of your own. Besides, you would just get frustrated if I gave you all the answers.”

Daphne grimaced, but acknowledged that Tracey was right.  She would never have been completely satisfied with a solution that she hadn’t come up with herself.  She sighed and gave another half-hearted attempt at changing a quill. She doubted she could set her desire to better herself aside completely, nor should she, but perhaps Tracey was right that it didn’t require her to isolate herself from Harry.  

When the bell rang and signaled the end of class, Daphne murmured, “Thank you, Tracey.  Let me know if you need any help dealing with Pansy.”

“Anytime, Daph.”  Tracey winked and Daphne glowered back at her.  Tracey knew full well that Daphne hated to have her name shortened and she was abusing the good-will she had just earned.  

“Watch it, Tracey, you might not be on thin ice, but that doesn’t mean it won’t break if you start jumping.”

“Yeah, yeah.”  Tracey waved her hand and headed for the exit, Daphne following in her wake, only to stop as they noticed Susan waiting there for the two of them.  Tracey spoke up first. “Susan? What’s up?”

“Hey Tracey, mind if I borrow Daphne here for a bit?”

Tracey tapped her jaw in mock contemplation.  “Hmm… Only if you promise to return her in as good a condition as she is now.  No joy rides, you hear?”

Daphne cleared her throat.  “I’m right here, you know, and I’m not some broom to be lent out,” she chided.  “I would be happy to accompany you, Susan. What is it that you needed?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” Susan said enigmatically before leading Daphne out of the classroom.  

The two walked down a maze of twisting paths and corridors, which was admittedly, fairly typical for trying to get anywhere in Hogwarts, no matter how mundane, and eventually came to a stop in front of one of the abandoned classrooms one floor up.  Daphne looked back at Susan and raised her eyebrows, but the Hufflepuff simply motioned her to go inside. She hesitated a moment before opening the door with no small amount of trepidation. She didn’t think Susan was the type to pull pranks or do anything nefarious, but this whole situation was just odd.  

Inside the room stood Hadrian Wyllt.

He looked up with a hesitant smile.  “Daphne, you came -- When Susan said she’d get you to hear me out, I wasn’t sure you would.  Um, thanks for giving me this chance.”

Daphne glanced back at the door that Susan had shut behind her.  She had a feeling that the redhead had likely locked her in as well.  All in all, the whole thing was much more devious than she’d given Susan credit for.  She turned to face Harry once again and dryly responded, “I wasn’t informed that you would be here.”

Harry’s smile faltered and his face fell for a brief second before he schooled it once more, an easy, confident smile crossing his lips.  It was one that Daphne had begun to recognize as being the expression Harry put on whenever he thought he was in trouble. It annoyed her to no end that it still worked on her, even despite being aware of it.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry, Daphne.  Susan explained to me how some of the things I said could have come off, but -- You’re a brilliant witch, Daphne.  I would never think otherwise. I’m really truly sorry if I ever made you think that I thought less of you.”

What a strange coincidence that this should come so soon after her conversation with Tracey.  Daphne shook her head and said, “No, it’s not your fault, Harry. Well, it is, but I overreacted.”  

“No, I mean, what I said was really stupid.  I would have apologized sooner if you had let me.”

She sighed softly and stepped in close, pulling the boy into a hug.  He stiffened in her arms, as though unsure what to do and Daphne frowned slightly at the reaction before continuing, “I’ll forgive you your words, if you’ll forgive me for acting distant?”

Harry let out a small laugh.  “Sure. So -- friends again?”

“Friends again, you berk.”

She released him and stepped back away and Harry ran a hand through his messy hair, a grin plastered on his face.  He hesitated and then said, “So, I was thinking -- I mean, if you’re interested -- Susan pointed out that Emrys might have taught me a few things that haven’t been taught here at Hogwarts yet, and we have a lot of friends in other Houses that we hardly ever see.  So I was thinking we could start a study group of sorts. A way for everyone to meet up and spend time together after classes.”

Daphne raised her eyebrows.  “I didn’t realize you enjoyed tutoring Vincent and Gregory so much that you wished to do so for the rest of us.”

“Ha ha.  Very funny.  Seriously though, Daphne, is it something you’d be interested in?”

“It sounds like a great idea, Harry.  We’ll need to find a place to meet though.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I have an idea for that.  It might take some cleaning though.”

“Did you find another old abandoned classroom or something?” Daphne asked.

“Or something.”  Harry grinned and added, “I’m sure you’ll love it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and welcome once again to this strange hint corner.
> 
> Pre-teens are never known to be the most level headed of people when it comes to arguments, though, in my experience at that age, a lot of the anger centered around those arguments seems to blow over as quickly as they come and is oft forgotten by the next day. It’s still easy to get stuck in one’s head however. Fortunately, Susan makes a good Hufflepuff.
> 
> There’s not much else to say, other than next chapter is Halloween, and we all know Harry’s track record with that particular holiday.
> 
> Until next time.


End file.
